His enemy sprang back at the same moment and through the
darkness again came the sword into his breast. He felt the blood
following the blade as it was snatched away, raised his revolver and
fired his last shot squarely at his foe. The muzzle was less than two
feet from his face and in the flash he saw Ned's look of horror, both
brothers recognizing each other in the same instant.
"John--my God, it's you!"
"Yes--yes--and it's you--God have mercy if I've killed you!"
In a moment the older brother had caught Ned's sinking body and lowered
it gently on the leaves.
"It's all right, John, old man," he gasped. "If I had to die it's just
as well by your hand. It's war--it's hell--all hell--anyhow--what's the
difference----"
"But you mustn't die, Boy!" John whispered fiercely. "You mustn't, I
tell you!"
"I didn't want to die," Ned sighed. "Life
was--just--becoming--real--beautiful--wonderful----"
He stopped and drew a deep breath.
John bent lower and Ned's arm slipped toward his neck and his fingers
touched the warm blood soaking his clothes.
"I'm--afraid--I--got--you,--too,--John----"
"No, I'm all right--brace up, Boy. Pull that devil will of yours
together--we've both got it--and live!"
The younger man's head had sunk on his brother's blood-stained breast.
"Now, look here, Ned, old man--this'll never do--don't--don't--give up!"
The answer came faint and low:
"Tell--Betty--when--you--see--her--that--with--my--last--breath--I--spoke
--her--name--her--face--lights--the--dark--way----"
"You're going, Ned?"
"Yes----"
"Say you forgive me!"
"There's--nothing--to--forgive--it's--all--right--John--good-bye----"
The voice stopped.
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