"It's grossly improbable," Trove suggested thoughtfully.
"Well, it ain't the kind o' thing that happens every day or two,"
said the other. "If you're innocent, you won't mind my looking you
over a little to see if you have wounds or weapons. Understand,
I've no authority, but if you wish, I'll do it."
"Glad to have you. Here's a hunting-knife, and a flint, and some
bird shot," Trove answered, as he began to empty his pockets.
Spinnel examined the hunting-knife and looked carefully at each
pocket.
"Would you mind taking off your coat?" he inquired.
The young man removed his coat, uncovering a small spatter of blood
on a shirt-sleeve.
"There's no use going any farther with this," said the young man,
impatiently. "Come on home with me, and I'll go back with you in
the morning and prove my innocence."
The two mounted their horses and rode a long way in silence.
"It is possible," said Trove, presently, "that the robber was a man
that knew me and, being close pressed, planned to divert suspicion."
Save that of the stranger, there was no sleep at the little house
in Brier Dale that night. But, oddly, for Mary and Theron Allen it
became a night of dear and lasting memories of their son.
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