She started and trembled afresh. “I—I didn’t see one o’ their faces,” she said. “How could I? ’twas dark as pitch.”
“O’Rourke was employed by Mr. Himes for several weeks, I know; and you may have been able to recognize his voice.”
“He—I mean the fellar that come in the cabin where we was sleepin’—didn’t say a word, only grabbed Himes—to git a holt o’ the belt he kep’ his money in, I s’pose—and Himes he begun to screech murder! an’ I cut an’ run fer help hard as ever I could,” she said, in a sullen tone. “He kin say whatsomever he’s a mind to; I hadn’t nothin’ to do with the affair.”
“I hope not, indeed,” returned the captain; “and I trust you will be ready to do what you can to bring the scoundrels to justice.”
She made no response to that, but presently rose and went around to the other side of the raft, where she remained out of sight till the wounded man had been carried away.
The town, situated a mile or more farther up the river, could be reached by traversing half that distance by land. Taking that route, Mr. Himes’s bearers bore him thither, stepping carefully to avoid jolting him.
The news of the attack upon him had spread like wildfire, and early as was the hour, the streets were full of people—men, women, and children—eager to catch a glimpse of his features as he was carried past, and to learn every particular of the affair. Many of them, falling into line behind the litter, followed it to the outer door of the tavern, and would have even pressed into the room to which he was finally taken had not the doctor positively forbidden it and resolutely shut the door in their faces.
All was still excitement in and about the building when the stage from Frederic drove up.
“Stop here for breakfast,” the driver called out, laconically, to his passengers as he reined in his horses and sprang to the ground. Then holding the lines in one hand, he opened the door of the stage with the other.