Among the number of
wounded, one man among others fell into my care. His name is Bertrand
Hale, and I think both of you know him."
Tom and Jack exchanged looks.
"We have met him many times," said the former; "but I can't say that he
has ever been a friend of ours. He's rather a wild harum-scarum sort of
chap--I imagine his own worst enemy, for he drinks heavily when he can
get it, and spends much of the time in the guard-house. Still, they say
he's a fighter, every inch of him, and has done some things worth
mentioning."
"I imagine you describe him exactly, Tom," Nellie told him. "Very well,
this time he's in a pretty bad way, for he has a number of serious
injuries, and, besides has lost his left arm, though it's possible he may
pull through if his constitution hasn't been weakened too much through
dissipation."
"But what about Bertrand Hale, Nellie? Did he tell you anything that
would be of interest to us?" asked Tom.
"I can see that you're beginning to suspect already, Tom," she continued.
"For that is exactly what happened. He kept following me with his eyes as
I moved around doing my work, after taking care of him. Then he beckoned
to me, and asked whether I wasn't a particular friend of Jack Parmly and
Tom Raymond.
"Of course I assured him it was so, and with that he looked so very eager
that I knew he had a secret to tell me. This is the gist of what he said,
boys. Just four days ago he was approached by a man he didn't know, who
managed to get some strong drink into his hands, and after Hale had
indulged more than he ought made a brazen proposition to him.
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