"Ah, doctor, good-morning. Glad to see you, sir," said Mr. Travilla,
rising to give the physician a hearty shake of the hand.
"Thank you, sir. How are you after your fright? Mrs. Travilla, you are
looking a little pale; and no wonder. Uncle Joe tells me you had a visit
from a burglar last night?"
"A murderer, sir; one whose object was to take my husband's life," Elsie
answered with a shudder, and in low, tremulous tones, leaning on Edward's
arm and gazing into his face with eyes swimming with tears of love and
gratitude.
"My wife's also, I fear," Mr. Travilla said with emotion, fondly stroking
her sunny hair.
"Indeed! why this is worse and worse! But he did not succeed in wounding
either of you?"
"No; his ball passed over our heads, grazing mine so closely as to cut off
a lock of my hair. But I wounded him, must have cut an artery, I think,
from the bloody trail he left behind him."
"An artery?" cried the doctor, growing more and more excited; "where? do
you know where your ball struck?"
"A flash of lightning showed us to each other and we fired simultaneously,
I aiming for his right arm. I do not often miss my aim: we heard his
revolver fall to the floor and he fled instantly, leaving it and a trail
of blood before him.
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