"Speak low," said Wilson, "I'll warrant, he's near us this very minute; he's olers spookin' about, and eaves-droppin'."
"Let him spook about and eaves-drop," said Fabens, "I owe him nothing, but pity for his disposition, and I would say all I have said, and more, to his face. There is one comfort! God has power to give him a better heart, and I hope some day he will."
"I dun know about that," said Colwell. "Mebby he can, but it will take more brimstun than the critter's worth to cleanse his rotten sperit."
"And they'll have to break in an egg or two after that, I guess, to make it white and clear, as Aunt Polly does her sugar," added Teezle.
"Don't make light of it," said Fabens. "With God all things good are possible. I would not add a single pain to his misery. Who of us—"
"There! there, see that light in the bushes yonder!" screamed Nancy Nimblet, who had been frightened by the idea that they were watched, and had been looking around the camp for sights of alarm. "That light yonder!—what is it?—what is it?"
"A Jack-o'-lantern, may be, and may be somethin' wuss," said Colwell, rising.
"A ball of fire!—what can it be? see, it comes towards us!" added
Uncle Walter.
"It's right where we found little Clinton's hat," cried Mrs. Fabens, pale with terror. "O, dear, what can it be? He couldn't have been murdered, my dear Clinton couldn't have been murdered, and that appeared to reveal his fate!"
"I'll warrant that's it!" answered Teezle. "Square Peasley seen a light, and heerd a gugglin' groan where the pedlar had his throat cut in Cloverdale, you know."