“Pretty—near—cashed in—didn’t I?”
“Yes, you pretty nearly drowned. But you’re all right now.”
“It was Snackley!” said the stranger, as though talking to himself. “Snackley got me—the rat!”
CHAPTER VI
Snackley
At that moment the farmer’s wife appeared, bringing a drink of hot ginger and water, which the man on the couch gulped down gratefully.
“We’ll put him in the spare room, Mabel,” decided the farmer. “He needs a good warm bed more’n anything else just now. I’ll look after him, if these boys here will help me.”
“I—I think I was shot—” muttered the stranger. He motioned weakly toward his side.
Frank leaned over.
“Why, there’s blood on his coat!” he exclaimed.