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"Abner Teeftaller! Abner! Abner Te-e-eftaller!"

"What is it?" shouted Abner, shocked at the tone.

"Come on down here, quick!"

"What's the matter?"

"Tug's hurt! We got to carry him up to his room!"

A shock of supernatural horror shot through Abner and chilled his face. He knew now this was what he had expected. He whirled, struck the corner of the dresser, banged down the window sash, cursed, groped for his clothes, found only his trousers, huddled into them; the next moment went hurrying in sock feet through the hallway.

He could see the dark shape of the banisters against the reflections from the lamp on the stairpost below. He started to run downstairs when the lamp moved. When he got to the head of the steps, he saw the light held aloft by a hand and four men bringing up the body of Tug Beavers. In the yellow illumination the ghastly face did not look like Tug's. The four men bore the body with the shaky carefulness of untrained nurses. As they worked upward, one of Tug's hands slipped off his body and hung down at an awkward angle. The bearers paused to lay it back on the stomach again.

Among the crowd streaming up after the body, Abner could hear, "Is he dead?" "I don't know." "Shot in the back." "Picked him up on the road from Squire Meredith's!" "Know who done it?" "Hell far, ever'body knows who done it!"

Moved by some violent impulse Abner whirled and dashed down the hall. He knocked sharply at the girl's door.

"Nessie! Nessie!" he called urgently.

Already a light was moving on the inside. The next moment the door opened and Nessie, with a candle in her hand, her hair down and in her nightgown, stared at Abner with a pale face.

"You were right, Nessie!" gasped the youth in a horror-struck voice.

"What do you mean—what is it?"