“You shall do no such thing!” said Glenn, firmly; “he must be buried in the earth.”
“Just as you say,” said Sneak, submissively, throwing down the leg.
“Run home and bring the spades, Joe,” said Glenn, “and call for the ferrymen to assist us.”
“And I’ll take the sled along and leave it in the yard,” said Joe, starting in the direction of the deer and calling the hounds after him.
“Let the hounds remain,” said Glenn. “I am resolved to have my fox-hunt.” Joe soon disappeared.
“If you want to hunt, you can go on; Roughgrove and me will bury this robber,” said Sneak.
“Be it so,” said Glenn; “but remember that you are not to put him in the river, nor must you commit any indecent outrage upon his person. Let his body return to the earth—his soul is already in the hands of Him who created it.”
“That’s as true as gospel,” said Sneak; “and I would rather be froze in this snow than to have his hot berth in the t’other world. I don’t feel a bit mad at him now—he’s paying for his black dagiverous conduct hard enough by this time, I’ll be bound. I say, Mr. Glenn, it’ll be rather late when we get through with this job—will there be any vacant room at your fireside to-night?”
“Certainly, and something to eat—you will be welcome, provided you don’t quarrel too much with Joe,” replied Glenn.
“Oh, Joe and me understand each other—the more we quarrel the more we love one another. We’ll never fight—do you mind that—for he’s a coward for one thing, and I won’t corner him too close, because he’s broad-shouldered enough to lick me, if he was to take it into his head to fight.”