"Oh! oh!" groaned Pate.
"Let us go back!" exclaimed Wiggins,—"I will not—ugh!"
There was a sudden flash from the bushes, followed by a loud report, and poor Tom dropped dead at the feet of M. T. Pate. Before a word could be uttered, another shot was fired, and Toney staggered against a tree and then fell to the ground with a groan.
"Run!—run!" exclaimed Pate.
"Run!—run!—run!" cried Wiggins.
"Run!—run!—run!—run!" said the Professor, when there was another report, and he exclaimed, falling to the earth, "Oh!—oh!—oh!—I am shot!—help!—help!—murder! murder!"
Pate and Wiggins fled through the forest with the murderers shouting and firing in their rear. As it happened, they soon became separated, and each got into a path which led him away from the other. After running with unexampled speed for some time, Pate suddenly found himself on the back of some huge horned monster, which rose from the earth with a loud roar and galloped off with him. How far he rode on the back of his terrible courser he never could tell; but at last the creature leaped over the trunk of a fallen tree, and Pate rolled off and sank to the earth in a comatose condition, induced by extreme terror.
When he became conscious, he got up and wandered for hours, through the forest, lost and bewildered, and in the utmost dread of falling into the hands of the desperadoes, who had slain poor Toney, Tom, and the Professor. At length the day broke; and as he wandered on he espied some one coming towards him who had a most hideous appearance. Pate was about to turn and fly, when the man called to him, and he recognized the voice of William Wiggins.
Wiggins had fled in headlong haste until he had emerged from the forest, and entered an inclosure surrounding a farm-house. Here he was so unfortunate as to overturn a bee-hive and was so badly stung by the infuriated insects that he rushed blindly around, and got among the poultry. Hearing the commotion among his fowls, the farmer came out with a club, and vigorously belabored the supposed thief, until the latter escaped, and fled back to the forest, with his face shockingly swollen by the stings of the bees, and his body terribly bruised by the blows from the farmer's cudgel.
When Wiggins had told his doleful story, Pate proceeded to relate how he had been carried off on the back of some horned monster, which had suddenly risen out of the earth, and must have been the devil. It now being broad daylight, they succeeded in finding the way to the town, where they told a tale of horror to the landlord at the hotel. But while they were describing the bloody murder in the forest, the landlord, with a smile, pointed out Toney, Tom, and the Professor standing on the opposite side of the street, in the midst of a group of young men, who were laughing immoderately at something which was being told. Pate and Wiggins were now informed that they had been made the victims of a singular custom, which was peculiar to that locality, and was termed, "running a greenhorn." Apprehensive of the ridicule which would be heaped upon them, they immediately took their departure from the beautiful town of Bella Vista.