"Have you heard—" he began; but I interrupted him.
"Of the grave robbery? Yes."
"Well," said Carnes, laying a hand upon my arm, "they are organizing a gang down at Porter's store. They are going to raid Dr. Bethel's cottage and search for the body."
"They're a set of confounded fools!" I muttered. "Follow me, Carnes."
And I turned my steps in the direction of "Porter's store."
CHAPTER IX.
MOB LAW.
Lounging just outside the door at Porter's was Jim Long, hands in pockets, eyes fixed on vacancy. He was smoking his favorite pipe, and seemed quite oblivious to the stir and excitement going on within. When he saw me approach, he lounged a few steps toward me, then getting beyond the range of Porter's door and window.
"Give a dough-headed bumpkin a chance to make a fool of himself an' he'll never go back on it," began Jim, as I approached. "Have ye come ter assist in the body huntin'?"