He heard Mrs. Maslin’s frenzied cries, saw her violent gesticulations as she leaned out of the window, and thinking the house was on fire, he dropped the implements he was carrying and ran forward.
In the meantime Dick had raised Silas Maslin to a sitting posture and was trying to stanch the blood with a corner of the coverlet which belonged to his bed, when Mrs. Maslin turned around and saw what he was doing.
“Don’t you dare touch him again, you young villain!” she screamed, suddenly attacking the boy with her bony fists.
“What’s the matter with you?” objected Dick, trying to ward off her blows. “Why don’t you get some water and try to bring him to? What do you mean by pounding me in that way?”
“You ruffian! You murderer! I knowed you was born to be hanged!” yelled the excited woman, thumping the boy about the head and arms till he had to retreat out of her reach to save himself, for he had no idea of striking back at her.
Then she grabbed her husband in her sinewy arms and started to drag him from the room just as Huskins appeared on the scene and stared in astonishment at what he saw.
“Don’t let that boy escape, John!” cried Mrs. Maslin. “He’s made a murderous attack on Silas, and ef he hasn’t killed him it’ll be a great wonder.”
“You don’t mean Dick, ma’am?” exclaimed Huskins, in evident wonder.
“I don’t mean nobuddy else,” snapped his mistress, sharply. “Tie him up so he can’t get away, and then run for the constable. Lands sake! It’s a wonder we haven’t all been killed in our beds afore this! I never knowed he was such a desprit boy.”
Mrs. Maslin then bore Silas into her own chamber in the front of the house, and set about bringing him to his senses.