Douglass started, but Joe laughed.
"Your banditti are putting in an appearance."
"Attacking an unfortunate rabbit, I suppose," said Douglass, bravely.
Neither of them guessed what had really happened. When Conny rode at full speed into Hemlock Glen he had hardly a plan as to what he should do, but the next instant a bullet struck him in the shoulder and almost sent him from his horse. He caught the lines in his left hand, and called in a clear but low voice to some invisible foe, "It's I, Conny McConnell, and the lads in the buggy beyond are just Master Joe, the doctor's son, coming home from college with a friend, just a laddie like himsel'."
There was not a sound in response unless a dry twig may have cracked, but Conny paced slowly along until Doll's quick feet brought her into the Glen.
"Hullo, Conny!" called Master Joe, "did you hear a rifle-shot?"
"Yes, sir," said Conny; "there's a deal of game running these nights."
"What sort of game do you folks hunt with rifles up here?" asked Douglass; but Conny did not answer, and in a few moments they came out upon the open road, and saw the lights of Dunsmore about a mile before them.
Old Timothy was on the look-out, and long before they reached the house they saw his lantern moving about the barn.
"Here we are!" called Joe, throwing down the lines and springing out; and in the happy confusion of the greetings no one looked at Conny, until the doctor, taking his hand from the side of Prince, started to see that it was stained with blood.