Wood's dwelling,—a plain, substantial, commodious farm-house. 155 The ringing doorbell jarred her from her stupor. And yet the secondary emotion was one of suspicion. His high brow was what caused all the ladies in town to covet him, it radiated intelligence but also something more primal. Battle, murder, and sudden death—and an old chap like McClintock tuning his piano in the midst of it. Sheppard, struggling to escape, and holding the infant at arm's length; "have mercy on this helpless innocent!" And the child, alarmed by the strife, added its feeble cries to its mother's shrieks. Vexation at his folly in suffering himself to be thus entrapped kept Wood for a short time silent. Perhaps her granddaughter might marry his grandson. And yet, she would be easy prey in her present state of mind to any plausible, attractive scoundrel. “I am exceedingly sorry,” he said. CHAPTER XVI. “Lord!” she said. When he awoke it was late in the day, and he was surprised to find Blueskin seated by his bedside, watching over him with a drawn sword on his knee, a pistol in each hand, and a blood-stained cloth bound across his brow.
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