He had the full account in the newspaper, and had begun reading it, when my father uttered a low moan and tumbled off his chair to the floor.
"Will Thompson gave a wild cry and knelt beside him.
"'My God! he's dead, Bob,--he's dead!--and you've killed him with your good news!' he screamed, already raving; and then Old Hucks ran in just in time to prevent the madman from throttling West, for his fingers were even then twined around Bob's throat.

There was a desperate struggle, and I remember that, scared as I was, I joined Thomas in trying to pull Thompson off his prey.

But suddenly old Will threw up his arms and toppled backward, still raving like a demon, but unable to move his body from the waist downward.

West helped us to put him in bed, and said he was paralyzed, which afterward proved to be the truth.

Also, his mind was forever gone; and I think it was father's death that did that, rather than the loss of his money." They were all staring, white-faced, at the speaker.