"Well, I'm goin' to do my duty by you both, allars," Mrs. Wilson spoke in matter-of-fact tones, as she reached for her sewing-basket. "When I feel you need checkin' up, Tom Wilson, checked you're goin' to be, an' when Willium needs a hidin' he's goin' to get a hidin'. An'," she added, as her husband got up from his chair, saying something about having to turn the horses out to pasture, "you needn't try to side-track me from my duty neither.",
They gently rolled the dead, or dying, man on to his back, and the nature of his injury appeared. He was clothed in white trousers, a light blue coat, and a shirt the front of which was ornamented by some light tracing like flowers. He was without a cravat, and his head was uncovered. The left side of his shirt was soaked in blood, and the singed hole through which the bullet had passed from the weapon whose muzzle he had pressed to his breast, was visible in the thick of the dark crimson dye. His face was marble-white. It wore an expression of torture. His lips were parted and grey. The eyelids were half-closed, and the whites of the eye only were visible.,
"It was Deacon Ringold sent me," Billy answered. "He told me to tell you that he's got to turn his pigs into the orchard tomorrow an' that you an' the other people here might as well come an' gather up the apples on the ground if you want 'em.".
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