The Wild Fawn by Mary Imlay Taylor

IT was after dark, and the lights at the station-house were shining across a street still crowded with the curious and the idle, when Daniel finally reached the little cell where Leigh had been lodged since the shooting. He found the boy lying face downward on the bare cot in the corner, his head on his arms. Daniel had to touch his shoulder before he roused himself and looked up. His white, drawn face and his disheveled hair shocked his brother. He looked as if he had aged two years in five hours.

"I've come to help you, Leigh," said Daniel simply.