"Shot!" answered Kit laconically.
"Bad?" asked Stella anxiously.
"Not so very. Just touched the bone. But it has been bleeding like the
deuce."
"Ted, take charge of the prisoner. Kit, get off that horse and let me
see that wound."
Stella's commands were promptly obeyed, and Kit groaned slightly as
Stella helped him off with his coat and cut away his sleeve. He had
received a nasty flesh wound near the shoulder, made by a ball of large
caliber, which had passed clear through.
As soon as she had washed the wound with water from Ted's canteen, and
had bound it up, Kit felt much more comfortable.
"How did it happen?" asked Stella.
"I heard that the old man and the jockey had made a sneak from the
grounds when Ted was having his fun with the big fellow, and I got my
bronc and followed them. I came up with them a ways back, and made the
old duffer halt, but the jock potted me and got away. That's all."
CHAPTER XXX.
KIT'S TROUBLESOME PRISONER.
"Kit, you're the most reckless boy I ever knew," said Stella, as he
climbed into his saddle with some effort, for his arm was stiff and
swollen, and it was all he could do to keep from groaning with every
jump of his pony.
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