The Resurrection Man and the Buffer pursued their way towards the cemetery.
For some minutes they preserved a profound silence: at length the Buffer exclaimed, "I only hope, Tony, that this business won't turn out as bad as the job with young Markham three nights ago."
"Why should it?" demanded the Resurrection Man, in a gruff tone.
"Well, I don't know why," answered the Buffer. "P'rhaps, after all, it was just as well that feller escaped as he did. We might have swung for it."
"Escape!" muttered the Resurrection Man, grinding his teeth savagely. "Yes—he did escape then; but I haven't done with him yet. He shall not get off so easy another time."
"I wonder who those chaps was that come up so sudden?" observed the Buffer, after a pause.
"Friends of his, no doubt," answered Tidkins. "Most likely he suspected a trap, or thought he would be on the right side. But the night was so plaguy dark, and the whole thing was so sudden, it was impossible to form an idea of who the two strangers might be."
"One on 'em was precious strong, I know," said the Buffer. "But, for my part, I think you'd better leave the young feller alone in future. It's no good standing the chance of getting scragged for mere wengeance. I can't understand that sort of thing. If you like to crack his crib for him and hive the swag, I'm your man; but I'll have no more of a business that's all danger and no profit."
"Well, well, as you like," said the Resurrection Man, impatiently. "Here we are; so look alive."
They were now under the wall of the cemetery.