“He employed some other words which I did not hear distinctly. Then I heard a body fall heavily to the floor, and all was still. A moment afterwards, I heard Comston enter the room, and beg for a drink, stating that he had no money. I heard the rattling of glasses; then there was silence. In a short time I heard Blicker say:
“‘I will give you another drink, if you will drag that drunken man under the tree.’
“‘I will do it’, said Comston. He seemed to be lifting the man, and I heard him exclaim:
“‘Jones is dead, ain’t he?’
“‘No,’ replied Blicker, ‘He is dead drunk; he fell on the bench, and cut himself, and he is bleeding.’
“I then heard a sound as of one man dragging another over the floor. At this moment I heard footsteps approaching and I left.”
“That is the God’s truth!” cried Comston in a voice trembling with emotion.
“Silence!” cried the Sheriff.
Clara could scarcely restrain her deeply agitated feelings. How she wanted to fall on her knees, and thank Ernest for this strange interference. The District Attorney was astounded. Blicker, as pale as death, had started out of the room at a rapid pace.