Carnes reached out for the pipe which he had laid aside at my entrance, lighted it with due deliberation, and then said, with no trace of his former absurdity:
"I don't know what sent me strolling and smoking up toward Dr. Barnard's place, but I did go. My pipe went out, and I stopped to light it, stepping off the sidewalk just where the late lilacs hang over the fence at the foot of the garden. While I stood there, entirely hidden by the darkness and the shade, a man came walking stealthily down the middle of the road. His very gait betrayed the sneak, and I followed him, forgetting my pipe and keeping to the soft grass. He seemed to know just where to go for, although he moved cautiously, there was no hesitation. Well, he passed the gate, climbed the fence, sneaked up to the front of the house, skulking between the trees and rose bushes directly underneath the parlor window. I took the bearings as well as I could from a distance, and I made up my mind that the fellow, if he heard anything, could hardly catch the thread of the discourse, and I reckon I was right in my conclusions for, after a good deal of prospecting around, he sneaked away as he came, and I followed him back to Porter's store."
"And you knew him?" I questioned, hastily.
"I used to know him," said Carnes, with a comical wink, "but recently I've cut his acquaintance."
For a moment we stared at each other silently, then I asked, abruptly:
"Old man, do you think it worth our while to go into this resurrection business?"
"What for?"
"To satisfy ourselves as regards Bethel's part in it."