“What!” roared the wheelwright.
“It’s a lie, father!” shouted Dick, recovering himself and running out. “Here, ask Tom.”
“Why, of course it’s a lie,” cried Tom.
“But that man says—” cried the squire.
“Yah!” shouted Hickathrift angrily, “they never shot him; they heven’t got no goon.”
Chapter Seventeen.
Under Clouds.
Thorpeley was not badly hurt, so the doctor said when he came; but, as usual, he added, “If it had been an inch or two more to the right an important vessel would have been divided, and he would have bled to death.”