José — page 174: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

JOSE, 167 blanket, and saw a rough, bearded face peering into his. “Ts your thinking-box once more in order?” was asked inGerman. “Sit up and try. Not all brain- shells are alike. Many a one, I reckon, has been made to forget its office this day!” The speaker pressed his lips together in a painful grimace, while he assisted the young man to a sitting posture. The latter cast a quick glance about him. ‘T'wo steps from him he saw a broad, shallow stream between high embankments, covered with low cotton-wood and willow-bushes, among which he was comfortably nestled. His second look was directed toward the man at his side. “Don’t you know me?” the latter asked, witha friendly nod of the head. “Tam sure I have seen you before——” Baumann answered, dreamily. “You are Old Bob—but what——” he suddenly exclaimed, in alarm, “has become of the caravan—the caravan?” “Never mind the caravan now—there’s plenty of time to tell you about that,” the old man said, his weather-bronzed face contracting into a dark frown. “Let me look at your head!” He loosened the bandage and touched the smarting wound, almost driving Baumann frantic with pain. “Pretty nearly well; it’ll be all right to-morrow,” he continued, re-laying the cloth. “ You can thank your stars, for you are the only one that escaped.” Turning away, he sat down a short distance away, and frowningly gazed up stream. Baumann looked after him. Gradually the details of his late ad- venture recurred to him. A dozen questions were on his tongue’s end. Not till then did it occur to him that the old man had addressed him in Eomicboo Ss (E(0)