"Good evening, Mr. Sanderson," said Sam, coming in and shaking hands, followed by Spud. "We've got some bad news for you, but please don't blame Songbird—I mean John—for I am sure he was not to blame."
"That's right!" broke in Spud. "What happened might have occurred to any of us. I think we ought to be thankful that Songbird—that's the name we all call John, you know—wasn't killed."
"Oh, but do tell me what did happen!" pleaded Minnie.
"And what about my money—is that safe?" demanded Mr. Sanderson.
"No, Mr. Sanderson. I am sorry to say the fellow who attacked Songbird got away with it."
"Gone! My four thousand dollars gone!" ejaculated the farmer. "Don't tell me that. I can't afford to lose any such amount. Why! it's the savings of years!" and his face showed his intense anxiety.
"Oh, so John was attacked! Who did it? I suppose they must have half killed the poor boy in order to get the money away from him," wailed Minnie.
"We might as well tell you the whole story from beginning to end," answered Sam, and then, after he and Spud had taken off their overcoats and gloves, both plunged into all the details of the occurrence as they knew them.
"And he was hit on the head and on the chin! Oh, how dreadful!" burst out Minnie. "And are you positive, Sam, it was not serious?"
"That is what Dr. Havens said, and he made a close examination in the presence of Dr. Wallington."