He drove into Houma to find the town abuzz with excitement, for the news of the sheriff's murder had stirred the place wildly. Proceeding straight to the court house, Gramont encountered Ben Chacherre as he was leaving the car.
"Hello, there!" he exclaimed. "Lost my road. Where's Hammond?"
Chacherre jerked his head toward the court house.
"In yonder. Say, are you going back to the city to-night?"
"Yes." Gramont regarded him. "Why?"
"Take me back, will you? I've missed the last up train, and if you're goin' back anyhow I won't have to hire a car. I can drive for you, and we'll make it in a couple of hours, before midnight sure."
"Hop in," said Gramont, nodding toward the car. "I'll be back as soon as I've had a word with Hammond. No danger of his getting lynched, I hope?"
"Not a chance," said the other, conclusively. "Six deputies up there now, and quite a bunch of ex-soldiers comin' to stand guard. You goin' to fight the case?"
"No," said Gramont. "Can't fight a sure thing, can you? I'm sorry for him, though."
Chacherre shrugged his shoulders and got into the car.