Tish herself was in an exalted mood, but not about the shot—she was modest enough about that.
And with cause. Months after she told us how it happened. She said she was carrying the eggs and milk with her left hand and had the gun in her right, when a shot struck a tree beside her. She was so startled that her finger pulled the trigger of her own rifle, which was pointed up, with the result we know of. She would probably never have confessed even then, had she not taken rheumatic fever and thought she was dying.
When Mr. Muldoon went out to fix Modestine for the night Tish called us to the back of the cave.
“I bought the milk and eggs,” she said hurriedly, “and having a dime left—your missionary dime, Aggie, I borrowed it—I went back and bought a glass of jelly. Men like preserves. The woman wrapped it in a newspaper, and there is a full account of the robbery and of Muldoon being after the outlaws. He’s after the outlaws, but he’s after the reward too. They’re quoted at a thousand dollars!”
“He can have the thousand dollars for all of me,” said Aggie.
“A thousand dollars!” said Tish. “A thousand dollars to hand in to the church as the return from your missionary dime! And if we don’t get it Muldoon will! As soon as he can get about on his leg he’ll cease being hunted and begin to hunt. Why should he have it? He has plenty of chances, and we’ll never have another.”
That was all she had a chance to say, Muldoon joining us at that moment.
We retired early, but I did not sleep well. I wakened from time to time and I could hear Tish stirring next to me. At last I reached over and touched her.
“Can’t you sleep?” I whispered.
“Don’t want to,” she whispered back. “I’ve got it all fixed, Lizzie. We’ll take those outlaws back to the city, roped two by two.”