was a bullet hole in his shoulder from which the blood had been flowing freely.
"Sure, an' he's next to bein' dead," muttered Casey, after calling up the others. "Some feller plugged him." And he got down to examine the wound.
Ben was shocked, but did not allow his feelings to overcome him. On several occasions he had practised the art of first aid to the injured, as taught to the volunteers, and now he drew forth a bandage he had thoughtfully brought along, and bound up the wound, so that there should be no more loss of blood. Then he applied some stimulants and did what he otherwise could to revive the sufferer. But poor Gilmore was too far gone to open his eyes or speak, and only gasped and groaned as they placed him on a stretcher.
"I'll tell you what, there's small glory in this," remarked one of the soldiers, as they moved on with their burden. "Folks at home don't know how terrible the dark side of war really is."
"Right you are, Smader," answered the young captain. "There is more work than glory, and a good deal of bitterness added. Now Gilmore here has nobody at home but a widowed sister, who
