The two laboring men came in from their errand and joined them at the fire.
"Did you catch Joe?" inquired the dame.
"Yes, mum, just as he was riding off. We had to run after him and shout; but we stopped him, and gave him your message."
"All right; and now tell me—for I hadn't a chance to ask before—how came this gentleman to be wounded?"
"Don't know, mum. We was on our way to a little Hallow Eve merry-making at a neighbor's house in the Quarries, when we fell in long o' Joe, who had been to the pine woods to gather cones; and we was all jogging along, Joe foremost, when he stumbled and fell over something, which proved to be this man, which, to tell the truth, we took to be dead at the time," replied one of the men.
"And have you no idea who shot him?"
"No more than you have yourself, mum. You see—"
A groan from the wounded man interrupted the conversation.
"Hush! we disturb him. I ought to have known better than to talk," whispered Mrs. Winterose, and then she walked to the bedside and inquired:
"What is the matter? Can I do anything for you?"