"Whoof!" he exclaimed, as Ned opened his eyes. "What struck us?"
"I guess a bullet nicked me," grinned Ned; "it isn't much of a wound, is it?"
"Only grazed the skin," the farmer's wife assured him. "I am so thankful. It would have been terrible if either of you had come to serious harm through your brave act in my defence."
"Oh, that's all right, ma'am," said Ned, scrambling to his feet, "glad to have been of service. But whatever hit you, Herc?"
For Herc was holding his head now, with a lugubrious expression.
"Blessed if I know. Wish I did. I saw you fall, and jumped in to land Kennell. I grabbed him, and was bearing him down, when something that felt like a locomotive hit me a fearful wallop. Then I went to slumberland."
"Oh, how frightened I was, when I recovered my senses, and saw you two brave lads lying on the floor," said the farmer's wife, almost overcome at the recollection.
"Well, unless this house is haunted by spooks, who can hit as hard as steam-hammers, we'll have to come to the conclusion that Kennell had some confederates," decided Herc.
"The whole thing has a queer look to me," admitted Ned, with a puzzled look. "I can't make it out at all. You are sure that the fellow who annoyed you had no companions, madam?"