"Did you see him?" asked Stella at last, looking up at Ted.
"See who?" asked Ted.
"The man who shot at you, trying to murder you, and cast the blame on the Indians," she replied directly.
"Oh, that was an accident," said Ted. "I saw a flash of a blue coat over where the shot came from, but it was probably an Indian with a blue shirt on."
"And you didn't see who it was?" she asked again wonderingly.
"No."
"Don't you even suspect?"
"Hadn't thought of it."
"Suppose it was not an accident, who do you think would be most likely to try to shoot you from ambush, and make it appear an accident?"
Ted thought a moment. Could it be possible that it was not an accident? For a few minutes after the ball had plowed its way through their little party he had thought perhaps it might have been sent at them accidentally, as the Indians were doing some pretty wild shooting, and then again he almost believed it to be an intentional shot. It could not have come closer to him from such a distance, and yet so narrowly missed his heart, unless it was intended for him.