'In a minute,' said the elder man impatiently.
'I want ter see ye.'
Something in the tone constrained attention. The sheriff turned, and looked into a changed face. He suffered himself to be led aside.
'Ye ain't goin' ter be 'lected,' said the deputy grimly, 'an' for a damned good reason. Look-a-thar!'
They had walked to the blacksmith's shop. The deputy motioned to him to look into the window.
'Damn ye, what is it?' demanded Micajah Green, mystified.
The other made no reply, and the officer stooped, and looked into the dusky interior.
VI.
Three sides of the blacksmith's shop, the door, and the window were in full view from the little hamlet; the blank wall of the rear was close to a sheer precipice. The door was locked, and the key was in the sheriff's pocket.