"A burglar! Keep him from getting away? Why, Joseph Potter, we don't want any burglars 'round this house! For mercy's sake, if the poor, misguided creature will go, don't you try to stop him! Did you hurt him very much?"
Joe was relieved in mind because aunt Dorcas, instead of being terrified at the information that a burglar was in the house, was only solicitous lest he might have been injured, and he replied, grimly:
"I reckon I'm the one what got the worst of that little fuss. You needn't feel so very bad 'bout him, 'cause he's only bumped his head. But say, we mustn't let him go after what he's tried to do. I'll tie him, an' you call Plums to go for a perliceman."
"Joseph, I never would consent to have a poor fellow arrested; but he shall be talked to severely, for injuring you as he has done. The idea of a grown-up man striking a child so hard as to bring blood!"
However serious the situation, Joe could not have restrained his mirth.
Aunt Dorcas's pity for the burglar, and fear lest he had been injured, was to him very comical, and he laughed heartily, until the little woman said, in a tone of reproof:
"Joseph, that poor man may be dying, and by your hand, while you are making merry. Where is he?"
Joe stifled his mirth as best he could, and, taking the lamp, and the tender-hearted little woman's hand, led the way towards the shed door, as he replied:
"I'll show him to you, aunt Dorcas, an' then if you want to tie a rag 'round his throat, or put a plaster on his head, you can."
But Joe did not make as thorough an exhibition of his burglar as he had anticipated.