CHAPTER X.
MARK PROTECTS A FRIEND.
Squire Collins succeeded in reducing the deacon's claim to thirty-eight dollars, and this sum James was obliged to withdraw from his savings in the bank. He thought it was very hard, as the shooting was merely an accident. He was fond of money, scarcely less so than Deacon Miller himself, and it went to his heart to find himself so much poorer than before.
"It isn't as if I got any fun out of it," he complained to Tom. "It's just money thrown away."
"It is a heavy sum to pay for a trifling carelessness," admitted Tom.
"And I shouldn't have had a cent to pay but for John Downie. Why need the boy turn tell-tale?"
"It was mean."
"Mean? I should say so. I mean to come up with the fellow. I mean to give him the worst licking he ever had."
Even if Tom disapproved of the intention, he at any rate did not express any disapproval, but left it to be understood that he considered it perfectly proper.
Three days later the opportunity came. Tom and James were crossing the pasture, which had been the scene of the tragedy, when John, whistling gayly, met them.