"I guess he's pretty well rattled," laughed Tom. "Won't he be mad when he learns how he has been fooled!"
They waited for a while, but as Fox did not reappear they hurried back home by another road, that the man might not see them.
Tom was right when he said that the miserly old farmer was "rattled," as it is commonly called.
All day long the coward remained in the house, as nervous as a cat and afraid that a crowd of men would appear at any minute to lynch him.
His wife did not know what to make of such actions and finally demanded an explanation, and when it was not forthcoming threatened him with the broom, which she had used as a weapon of offense several times previously.
"They say he's dead!" finally burst out Joel. "They are goin' ter lynch me for it. Hide me, Mandy, hide me!"
"Who is dead, Joel Fox?"
"The boy I shot at fer stealin' them apples. Oh, they'll lynch me; I feel it in my bones!" groaned the old man.
"Who was it?"
"Harry Smith of Oak Run."
"And he is dead?"
