Out of a Labyrinth

by Lawrence L. Lynch

"Yes," with a stare of surprise, "so it was."

"How old was the wound, when you saw it?"

"Twenty-four hours, at least."

"Was it serious?"

"No; only a flesh wound, but a deep one. He had ought to be out by this time."

"Can you show me the bullet, sometime, if I wish to see it?"

"Yes."

My five minutes had already passed, but "our old woman" sat with a look of puzzled interest on his face, and as Bethel was quite calm, though none the less mystified, I took advantage of the situation, and hurried on.

"Bethel, I want to ask you something concerning your own hurt, now. Will it disturb or excite you to answer?"