“He’ll come around just as soon as he hears of this.” Ben closed his eyes wearily, but suddenly opened them again. “There he is now. I can hear his voice!” he cried, as Mundon appeared.
“Well, Ben my boy, how’d this happen?” Mundon’s distress was too genuine to be doubted.
“I saw a man taking the amalgam, and I tried to stop him. We got into a fight over it and he scratched me a little; that’s all.”
“All! Isn’t it enough?” Mundon indignantly cried. “How white you are, Ben! Why, you’re almost faintin’ away now.”
“No; I’m all right,” Ben hastened to say.
“You don’t look it. What sort of a lookin’ man was he?”
Ben closed his eyes. “I don’t know. It was dark, you know.”
“’Twas bright moonlight,—and there’s a lot shines through the holes in the roof on a clear night. Ain’t you got no idee what he looked like?”
Ben shook his head.