“I’ll go in, as the door is open,” he decided, “and sit down to the table and eat. Somebody will be along before I get through, and I’ll pay whatever is satisfactory, for eat I must.”
He entered, seated himself, and ate heartily. Still no one appeared.
“I don’t want to go off without paying,” thought Carl. “I’ll see if I can find somebody.”
He opened the door into the kitchen, but it was deserted. Then he opened that of a small bedroom, and started back in terror and dismay.
There suspended from a hook—a man of middle age was hanging, with his head bent forward, his eyes wide open, and his tongue protruding from his mouth!
CHAPTER VIII.
CARL FALLS UNDER SUSPICION.
To a person of any age such a sight as that described at the close of the last chapter might well have proved startling. To a boy like Carl it was simply overwhelming. It so happened that he had but twice seen a dead person, and never a victim of violence. The peculiar circumstances increased the effect upon his mind.
He placed his hand upon the man’s face, and found that he was still warm. He could have been dead but a short time.