“I—I was,” faltered Stumpy. “I missed the tin can I aimed at. Did I come very close to you?”
“I didn’t take time to measure the distance,” announced Jed dryly, “but it was close enough.”
“We heard you yell,” said Frank, “and we thought some one was killed. We didn’t know it was you.”
“I was hollering at the horses, partly,” explained the man. “The pesky critters won’t stand still when they hear shootin’. So it was you fellows; eh? Well, I ought to have knowed better than to come out with this load of wood to-day. Jest as I was startin’ a black cat run right across the road in front of the horses, and that’s one of the very worst kind of bad signs. I should have turned back, but Mr. Keene wanted this wood to-day, so I kept on. Then, as if one warnin’ wasn’t enough, I had another. Jest as I was turnin’ in this back way, thinkin’ it would be a little shorter, three crows flew over my head, goin’ South. They must have stayed up pretty late, but there’s no worse sign than three crows, unless it’s to meet a snake with his tail toward you. But, as Mr. Keene wanted the wood, I come on, and look what was the result—I was nearly killed.”
“Oh, I guess the bullet didn’t come so near you as you thought,” suggested Ned, partly for Fenn’s benefit. “Fenn usually fires high, and he missed the can clean. Then, you’re down in a sort of hollow here, and I guess it was well over your head.”
“I hope so,” remarked Jed. “A miss is as good as a mile, I guess. Still, it was partly my own fault, for not payin’ attention to them signs. You can make up your minds I won’t tempt fate that way again. I’ll turn back next time when a black cat crosses in front of me. And then, too, I ought to have give you chaps warnin’. I heard you shootin’ as I drove up, and then, when it stopped, I s’posed you was done. Then when that one shot came, and whizzed over my head, I thought it was all up with me. I hollered some, to let you know I was here, and to quiet the team. Then I went on tossin’ off the wood.”
Fenn breathed easier. Some color was beginning to come back into his cheeks. A moment later Alice came hurrying along, having found the gate.
“Is he badly hurt?” she asked. “Have they got him in the wagon? Perhaps you’d better drive right to the hospital Mr. Sneed,” for she knew the teamster, who did odd jobs around town.
“Wa’al, I don’t mind drivin’ to the hospital for ye,” announced Jed with a grin, “but there ain’t no need for it.”