"Dunno yet," said William, who always trusted to the inspiration of the moment.
"S'pose—s'pose he murders us?" whispered Ginger.
"If he does," said William grimly, still aggrieved by his family's general attitude to him, "I know some folks that'll p'raps be sorry for some things!"
Then suddenly——
"He's there!" said William excitedly. "Look! I can see him!"
They crept behind some bushes and watched. A man was digging in the middle of the lawn. He stood up to his neck in a large hole and was throwing up spadeful after spadeful of earth on to the edge. Occasionally he stopped to wipe his brow. He was a thin, youngish man.
THEY CREPT ACROSS THE LAWN AND SUDDENLY OVERTURNED
THE HEAP OF FRESH-DUG EARTH OVER THE
EDGE OF THE HOLE UPON ITS OCCUPANT.
"Diggin' graves for dead folks he's murdered," explained William.
"Golly!" breathed Ginger, his eyes and mouth wide open. "How're you goin' to stop him?"