Phelps groaned.
"Merciful God!" he groaned, "it is Dr. Warrender's body!"
[CHAPTER V.]
A NINE DAYS' WONDER
There was sensation enough and to spare in Heathton next morning. Jarks lost no time in spreading the news. He spent the greater part of the day in the taproom of the Good Samaritan, accepting tankards of beer and relating details of the discovery. Mrs. Timber kept him as long as she could; for Jarks, possessed of intelligence regarding the loss of Mr. Marlow's body, attracted customers. These, thirsty for news or drink, or both, flocked like sheep into the inn.
"To think that a corp of mine should be gone!" creaked he in his aged voice. "Man and boy, I niver heard tell of such things--niver! Why Muster Marlow should go beats me--ay, that it does!"
"It doesn't beat me," cried Mrs. Timber in her most acidulated voice. "I know who took the body."
"That you don't!" contradicted Jarks incoherently; "fur passon, he don't know, so I don't know as how you'd know, Mrs. Timber."
"It was that fat play-actor out of this very house," snapped the landlady.
"And how can you prove that, Mrs. Timber?" asked the sexton contemptuously.