"Yes—and well you know it! He was still alive when Homer got him to the village, but he may be dead by now! Murder is what the law will call it, however much he deserved to be killed. You didn't tell about meeting him this morning—and now I know why."
"Dead! Murder! Are you crazy? I didn't hurt him. I rolled him about in the snow a bit and slapped his lying face and then threw him back into his sleigh. He drove off all right. I didn't even land him one good crack. I didn't tell you about it because it wasn't worth telling."
"But he is shot! Homer was on the road—quite a piece behind you. He saw Hammond coming, and then he heard a gun. Hammond was all blood when he got to him, and he took him home. So what's the good of bluffing, Jim? You must go, quick!"
"I heard a shot, too! I thought he'd taken a wild one at me for knocking him about, so I kept right on."
"Please don't, Jim. Please shut up and get out of here before the sheriff comes looking for you."
"I'll do nothing of the kind. I didn't shoot the old rube, so why should I run away and hide? I'm not ashamed of what I did do to him, and the sheriff is welcome to the whole story. Flora, do you think I would shoot a man? I didn't return his fire even that night he was blazing away at me."
"But—who shot him, if you didn't?"
"I don't know."
"The law will fasten it onto you, so you must hide! You threatened him one day before Sheriff Hart. How can you prove your innocence?"
"I don't have to. The law has to prove my guilt. I won't run away, that's flat! Anyone who thinks that I fired on a man sitting unarmed in a sleigh is a fool!"