"Is he dead?" said Naomi, uncovering her face.
"As dead as a man can be."
"And you shot him?"
She knew that he had; but the thing seemed incredible as she sat and looked at him; and by the time it came fully home to her, the little musician was inches taller in her eyes.
"Yes, I shot the brute; and I'll shoot that shearer, too, if I get half a chance."
Naomi felt nervous about it, and sufficiently shocked. She was dubiously remarking that they had not committed murder, when she was roughly interrupted.
"Haven't they!"
"Whom have they murdered?"
"You'll see."
"I know!" cried Mrs. Potter, with sudden inspiration; but even as they looked at her, a voice was heard shouting from a respectful distance outside.