Page:Arthur Stringer - The Shadow.djvu/239

 Blake leaned forward and fought away the flies again.

"Then it 's a good thing I got up with you."

The sick man rolled his eyes in their sockets, so as to bring his enemy into his line of vision.

"Why?" he asked.

"Because I 'm not going to let you die," was Blake's answer.

"You can't help it, Jim! The jig 's up!"

"I 'm going to get a litter and get you up out o' this hell-hole of a swamp," announced Blake. "I 'm going to have you carried up to the hills. Then I 'm going back to Chalavia to get a doctor o' some kind. Then I 'm going to put you on your feet again!"

Binhart slowly moved his head from side to side. Then the heat-lightning smile played about the hollow face again.

"It was some chase, Jim, was n't it?" he said, without looking at his old-time enemy.

Blake stared down at him with his haggard hound's eyes; there was no answering smile on his heavy lips, now furzed with their grizzled