“Wait for me. Keep the lights out for all you do,” Dwight said, and off he strode in the darkness.
In the gloom and stillness of the store the others waited his return, hardly daring to raise their voices above a whisper. He was gone nearly an hour, and then they heard the key softly turned in the lock and presently he stood in their midst.
“They've about dispersed,” he said, in a tone of intense fatigue. “They lay it to the Hillbend faction, who had some disagreement with them to-day. They seem satisfied.”
“Gentlemen”—it was Garner's voice from his chair at the table—“there's one thing that must be regarded as sacred by us to-night, and that is the absolute secrecy of this thing.”
“Good Lord, you don't think any of us would be fool enough to talk about it!” exclaimed Blackburn, in an almost startled tone over the bare suggestion. “If I thought there was a man here who would blab this to a living soul, I'd—”
“Well, I only wanted to impress that on you all,” said Garner. “To all intents and purposes we are law-breakers, and I'm a member of the Georgia bar. Where are you going, Carson?”
“Down to speak to Pete,” answered Dwight. “I want to try to pacify him.”
When he came back a moment later he said: “I've promised to stay here till daylight. Nothing else will satisfy him; he's broken all to pieces, crying like a nervous woman. As soon as I agreed to stay he quieted down.”
“Well, I'll keep you company,” said Keith. “I can sleep like a top on one of the counters.”
“Hold on, there is something else,” Carson said, as they were moving to the rear door. “You know the news will go out in the morning that Pete was taken off somewhere and actually lynched. This will be a terrible blow to his parents, and I want permission from you all to let those two, at least, know that—”