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"I'm going to git one of my own as soon as I lay by the money, Tug."

"A man's got to git his start in life," admitted Mr. Beavers generously.

Abner had no further preparations to make, and as soon as he could do so without unseemly haste, he got away and hurried to the garage where the hillmen had planned to foregather.

As Abner walked through the darkness, the weight of the pistol in his pocket gave him an exhilarated feeling of being a "bad man." This pleasure was connected in some obscure way with Nessie Sutton. It would be incorrect to say that Abner had set out to disturb a Sunday evening service to impress Nessie Sutton, but if there had been no girls in the congregation there would have been no boys with automatics on the outside.

When Abner reached the garage his gang was setting out in twos and threes for the church. Abner picked Zed Parrum for his companion, and Zed was a satellite of Peck Bradley's. So these three went together, the murderer, the fool, and the innocent.

As quickly as possible the trio deserted the village street and took to the back alleys, in order, as Peck explained, to set up alibis when the matter came up before the next circuit court, as it probably would.

Abner moved just behind his two friends in pitchy darkness. His enterprise gave him much the same sort of exhilaration that he might have received from the ball game that afternoon. His thoughts wandered about and presently reverted to Nessie Sutton; how she would open her blue eyes if she could know he was out with a man indicted for murder. She would certainly think him a hell-bent yaver—and he really was. There could be no doubt of that. He was a hell-bent yaver out of Yaversville!

Zed's pull at his sleeve drew Abner out of his musings.

"Huh, what is it?"