But Yankee curiosity was not so easily to be balked of its food. It found expression in Lawyer Adam Bain.
“That ain’t the law, Doc,” he said.
“I’m the law here,” declared Sheriff Schlager, planting himself solidly between the crowd and the coffin. One hand crept slowly back toward his hip.
“Don’t pull any gun on me,” retorted the lawyer quietly. “It ain’t necessary.”
“You heard Doc Breed say the body wasn’t fitten to be viewed,” pursued the sheriff.
“That’s all right, too. But the doc hasn’t got the final word. The law has.”
A quick murmur of assent passed through the room.
“And the law says,” continued Bain, “that the body shall be duly viewed. Otherwise, and the deceased being buried without view, an order of the court to exhume may be obtained.”
“Look at Breed,” whispered Kent to Sedgwick.
The medical officer’s lips were gray, as he leaned forward to pluck at the sheriff’s arm. There was a whispered colloquy between them. Then Breed spoke, with a pitiful effort at self-control: