Dick stepped aside to let the farmers in, while Darrin and Reade approached the spot at a run.
"Keep quiet, Hoskins," ordered the Overseer of the Poor. "Quiet, man; I tell you!"
"Oh, I didn't mean to do it!" moaned the unhappy captive. "I didn't mean to do it, I tell you! And now I must lose my life before I'm fit to go."
"'Touched' here," murmured Prescott, tapping his forehead.
"What are you making such a fuss about, Ed Hoskins?" demanded the Overseer of the Poor.
"I never meant to harm my wife!" screamed Hoskins in an agony of fear. "We had had words, and I meant nothing but to push her aside so I could pass. But she fell downstairs. It wasn't my fault that her neck was broken!"
"Whose neck was broken?" demanded the farmer.
"My wife's. But I never meant to do it."
"Humph!" remarked the Overseer of the Poor. "If your wife broke her neck, Ed Hoskins, she doesn't know it yet. She's doing some pretty husky work. She's the hired help over at St. Ingram's. She went there to work after you went away."
"Don't try to fool me," trembled Hoskins. "Don't! My wife's dead, and now I've got to go and pay the penalty of a crime I never meant to commit."