"Water--a drink!" murmured Mr. Duncan.
Seeing that his patient would be all right, for a few minutes at
least, Tom hurried to his motor-boat, got a cup and, filling it
with water from a jug he carried, he hastened with it to the
hunter. The fluid revived the man wonderfully and now that the
bleeding had almost completely stopped, Mr. Duncan was much
stronger.
"Do you think you can get to the boat, if I help you?" asked Tom.
"Yes, I believe so. To think of meeting you again, and under such
circumstances! It is providential."
"Did someone shoot you?" inquired Tom, who could not get out of
his head the notion of the men who had once assaulted him.
"No, I shot myself," answered Mr. Duncan as he got to his feet
with Tom's help. "I was out with my gun, practicing just as I was
that day when I met you in the woods. I stooped down to crawl
under a bush and the weapon went off, the muzzle being close
against my arm. I can't understand how it happened. I fell down
and called for help. Then I guess I must have fainted, but I came
to when I heard you talking to me. I shouldn't have come out
to-day as it is so wet, but I had some new shot shells I wished to
try in order to test them before the hunting season. But if I can
get to the sanitarium, I will be well taken care of.
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