"Well, what do you want?" he demanded, as the boys came to a halt in front of him. "Why, Mr. Fox, I thought you had skipped out!" cried Tom in pretended surprise. "Skipped out?" "Yes." "Why should I skip out, boy?" "On account of Harry Smith." "Harry Smith? Who is he?" "Harry Smith of Oak Run--the boy who was shot the other day. Didn't you hear he was dead?" At these words Joel Fox dropped the tools he was using and turned pale. "Is--er--is the boy--er--" He could not finish. "It was a wicked thing to do," put in Sam. "Any man that would shoot a boy ought to be lynched." "Perhaps that crowd of men were coming up here," went on Tom. "Didn't they have a rope with them?" "To be sure they had a rope, Tom. And one of 'em said something about hanging." "What crowd are you talking about?" stammered Joel Fox, growing paler and paler. "The crowd at the depot. Did you shoot him, Mr. Fox? I can't hardly believe it true, although I know you were mean enough to take my uncle's pears." "I--er--the pears were on my property. I er--I didn't shoot at any boy. I--er--I shot at some crows in my cornfield," stammered Joel Fox. "Did you say a crowd of men were coming over here with a rope?" "You'll see fast enough, you bad man!" cried Tom, and ran off, followed by Sam. In vain Fox tried to call them back. The boys went as far as a turn in the road, then hid behind some bushes. Soon they saw Fox pick up his tools and make for his barn. Then he came out and hurried for his house. "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?" "So they say. But I didn't calkerlate I hit him at all," whined Joel. "No more you did, for I saw him run away, and he went clear out o' sight up the road. Who told you this?" demanded Mrs. Fox. "Those Rover boys, Tom an' Sam." "Those young imps! Joel, they are fooling you." "Do you really think so, Mandy?" asked the man hopefully. "I do. If I was you I'd go over to Oak Run and find out." "No, no--if it's true they'll lynch me, I know they will!"