Cornwood went on shore, and in a short time I saw him drive down the shore into the woods.
"Do you believe that story about the wild turkey?" asked Ben, when Cornwood had gone ashore.
"I see no reason to disbelieve it," I replied, looking with interest at the engineer.
"Do you? Well, I don't; and I didn't believe it when he told it," replied Ben, as he pointed with his jack-knife at a place in the wild turkey which he had partly dissected. "Do you see that?"
"I do not see anything but blood and meat," I answered.
"You don't! Well, there is the ball that whistled within ten feet of your head when you were walking on the main deck."
Ben Bowman applied his knife-blade to the turkey, and pried out the bullet, which had lodged against the breastbone.
I took it in my hand. If his story was true, this was not the ball that passed near my head. We made another search for the man who had fired at me, but we looked in vain.
CHAPTER XXX.