"Yeou lay still, 'n' wait t'll that man comes tew."
He kept the hay-fork ready for action at the slightest sign of
resistance.
Mr. Bernard, in the mean time, had been getting, first his senses, and
then some Jew of his scattered wits, a little together.
"What is it?"--he said. "Who 'a hurt? What's happened?"
"Come along here 'z quick 'z y' ken," Abel answered, "'n' haaelp me fix
this fellah. Y' been hurt, y'rself, 'n' the' 's murder come pooty nigh
happenin'."
Mr. Bernard heard the answer, but presently stared about and asked
again, _"Who's hurt? What's happened?"_
"Y' 'r' hurt, y'rself, I tell ye," said Abel; "'n' the''s been a murder,
pooty nigh."
Mr. Bernard felt something about his neck, and, putting his hands up,
found the loop of the lasso, which he loosened, but did not think to
slip over his head, in the confusion of his perceptions and thoughts. It
was a wonder that it had not choked him, but he had fallen forward so as
to slacken it.
By this time he was getting some notion of what he was about, and
presently began looking round for his pistol, which had fallen.
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