He beckoned to the colored youth, talked to him for a minute or two and then both set to work digging about the stone, using some implements that the attendant had brought with him.
“What are they after?” asked Fred in a whisper.
“I know very well what they are after,” replied Mr. Lanfranc in a low tone that held grimness in it. “He’s hanging himself with his own rope.”
The couple worked hard for perhaps a quarter of an hour, and then with great effort dragged the heavy stone out of its hole and laid it on the grass. Then after resting a moment each took one end, and half carrying, half dragging it, moved toward the edge of a bog that lay twenty yards away.
“Halt!” shouted Mr. Lanfranc, and at the same moment the whole party rose to their feet and poured out from among the trees.
At the sudden command, Boolus and his helper dropped the stone as though they had been shot. In a moment the members of the party were upon them. The negro started to run, but one of the men caught him and dragged him back by the collar.
“So, Jim Boolus,” said Mr. Lanfranc, “you robber of widows and orphans, we’ve caught you at last. You’ve kept out of the grip of the law for a long time, but it’s got you now. The evidence is so clear that the jury will convict you without leaving the box. You stole the boat of these boys and left them to starve and die, for all you cared—”
“I didn’t,” denied Boolus, “and you can’t prove it.”
“This boy has confessed that he did it at your direction,” declared Mr. Lanfranc, indicating the negro.
“You don’t suppose a jury would take the word of a negro against that of a white man, do you?” replied Boolus, who thought he saw a ray of hope.