After much inane muttering the sick man uncovered his head, and asked faintly, “Are you Richard Lawrence?”
“I am.”
“Were you insane at one time, and do you remember Hiram Monk?”
“Yes, I was insane, but I know nothing of what happened then.”
“Well, I will confess all to you. Mr. Lawrence, I have suffered in all these three years—suffered from the agony of remorse.”
“Yes,” said Uncle Dick, with a rising inflection.
“I will keep my secret no longer. But who are all these young men?” glancing at the hunters.
“They are friends, who may hear your story,” Uncle Dick said.
“To begin with, I am indeed sick, but I have not the small pox. That was’ a mere ruse to get rid of disagreeable callers.”
At this Steve looked complacent, and Henry looked triumphant; the one pleased with his stratagem, the other pleased with his sagacity.