Swift as a grass fire, the shocking news spread through the village. An excited crowd gathered in front of the store, every one talking at once, trying to question young Stephens. The Sheriff was away, down at Fredericton for a holiday from his arduous6 duties. But nobody lamented7 his absence. It was his deputy they all turned to in such an emergency.
"Where's Tug8 Blackstock?" demanded half a dozen awed9 voices. And, as if in answer, the tall, lean figure of the Deputy Sheriff of Nipsiwaska County came striding in haste up the sawdusty road, with the big, black dog crowding eagerly upon his heels.
The clamour of the crowd was hushed as Blackstock put a few questions, terse10 and pertinent11, to the excited boy. The people of Nipsiwaska County in general had the profoundest confidence in their Deputy Sheriff. They believed that his shrewd brain and keen eye could find a clue to the most baffling of mysteries. Just now, however, his face was like a mask of marble, and his eyes, sunk back into his head, were like points of steel. The murdered man had been one of his best friends, a comrade and helper in many a hard enterprise.
"Come," said he to the lad, "we'll go an' see." And he started off down the road at that long loose stride of his, which was swifter than a trot12 and much less tiring.
"Hold on a minute, Tug," drawled a rasping nasal voice.
"What is it, Hawker?" demanded Blackstock, turning impatiently on his heel.
"Ye hain't asked no thin' yet about the Book Agent, Mister Byles, him as sold ye 'Mother, Home, an' Heaven.' Mebbe he could give us some information. He said as how he'd had some talk with poor old Jake."
Blackstock's lips curled slightly. He had not read the voluble stranger as a likely highwayman in any circumstances, still less as one to try issues with a man like Jake Sanderson. But the crowd, eager to give tongue on any kind of a scent13, and instinctively14 hostile to a book agent, seized greedily upon the suggestion.
"Where is he?" "Send for him." "Did anybody see him this mornin'?" "Rout15 him out!" "Fetch him along!" The babel of voices started afresh.
"He's cleared out," cried a woman's shrill16 voice. It was the voice of Mrs. Stukeley, who kept the boarding-house. Every one else was silent to hear what she had to say.
"He quit my place jest about daylight this morning," continued the woman virulently17. She had not liked the stranger's black whiskers, nor his ministerial garb18, nor his efforts to get a subscription19 out of her, and she was therefore ready to believe him guilty without further proof. "He seemed in a powerful hurry to git away, sayin' as how the Archangel Gabriel himself couldn't do business in this town."
Seeing the effect her words produced, and that even the usually imperturbable20 and disdainful Deputy Sheriff was impressed by them, she could not refrain from embroidering21 her statement a little.
"Now ez I come to think of it," she went on, "I did notice as how he seemed kind of excited an' nervous like, so's he could hardly stop to finish his breakfus'. But he took time to make me knock half-a-dollar off his bill."
"Mac," said Blackstock sharply, turning to Red Angus MacDonald, the village constable22, "you take two of the boys an' go after the Book Agent. Find him, an' fetch him back. But no funny business with him, mind you. We hain't got a spark of evidence agin him. We jest want him as a witness, mind."
The crowd's excitement was somewhat damped by this pronouncement, and Hawker's exasperating23 voice was heard to drawl:
"No evidence, hey? Ef that ain't evidence, him skinnin' out that way afore sun-up, I'd like to know what is!"
But to this and similar comments Tug Blackstock paid no heed24 whatever. He hurried on down the road toward the scene of the tragedy, his lean jaws25 working grimly upon a huge chew of tobacco, the big, black dog not now at his heels but trotting26 a little way ahead and casting from one side of the road to the other, nose to earth. The crowd came on behind, but Blackstock waved them back.
"I don't want none o' ye to come within fifty paces of me, afore I tell ye to," he announced with decision. "Keep well back, all of ye, or ye'll mess up the tracks."
But this proved a decree too hard to be enforced for any length of time.
When he arrived at the place where the game-warden kept watch beside the murdered man, Blackstock stood for a few moments in silence, looking down upon the body of his friend with stony27 face and brooding eyes. In spite of his grief, his practised observation took in the whole scene to the minutest detail, and photographed it upon his memory for reference.
The body lay with face and shoulder and one leg and arm in a deep, stagnant28 pool by the roadside. The head was covered with black, clotted29 blood from a knife-wound in the neck. Close by, in the middle of the road, lay a stout30 leather satchel31, gaping32 open, and quite empty. Two small memorandum33 books, one shut and the other with white leaves fluttering, lay near the bag. Though the roadway at this point was dry and hard, it bore some signs of a struggle, and toward the edge of the water there were several little, dark, caked lumps of puddled dust.
Blackstock first examined the road minutely, all about the body, but the examination, even to such a practised eye as his, yielded little result. The ground was too hard and dusty to receive any legible trail, and, moreover, it had been carelessly over-trodden by the game-warden and his son. But whether he found anything of interest or not, Blackstock's grim, impassive face gave no sign.
At length he went over to the body, and lifted it gently. The coat and shirt were soaked with blood, and showed marks of a fierce struggle. Blackstock opened the shirt, and found the fatal wound, a knife-thrust which had been driven upwards34 between the ribs35. He laid the body down again, and at the same time picked up a piece of paper, crumpled36 and blood-stained, which had lain beneath it. He spread it open, and for a moment his brows contracted as if in surprise and doubt. It was one of the order forms for "Mother, Home and Heaven."
He folded it up and put it carefully between the leaves of the note-book which he always carried in his pocket.
Stephens, who was close beside him, had caught a glimpse of the paper, and recognized it.
"Say!" he exclaimed, under his breath. "I never thought o' him!"
But Blackstock only shook his head slowly, and called the big black dog, which had been waiting all this time in an attitude of keen expectancy37, with mouth open and tail gently wagging.
"Take a good look at him, Jim," said Blackstock.
Jim stood motionless, with ears and tail drooping42, the picture of irresolution43 and bewilderment.
Blackstock took out again the paper which he had just put away, and offered it to the clog44, who nosed it carefully, then looked at the dead body beside the pool, and growled45 softly.
"Seek him, Jim," said Blackstock.
At once the dog ran up again to the body, and back to the open book. Then he fell to circling about the bag, nose to earth, seeking to pick up the elusive46 trail.
At this point the crowd from the village, unable longer to restrain their eagerness, surged forward, led by Hawker, and closed in, effectually obliterating47 all trails. Jim growled angrily, showing his long white teeth, and drew back beside the body as if to guard it. Blackstock stood watching his action with a brooding scrutiny48.
"What's that bit o' paper ye found under him, Tug?" demanded Hawker vehemently49.
"None o' yer business, Sam," replied the deputy, putting the blood-stained paper back into his pocket.
"I seen what it was," shouted Hawker to the rest of the crowd. "It was one o' them there dokyments that the book agent had, up to the store. I always said as how 'twas him."
"We'll ketch him!" "We'll string him up!" yelled the crowd, starting back along the road at a run.
"Don't be sech fools!" shouted Blackstock. "Hold on! Come back I tell ye!"
But he might as well have shouted to a flock of wild geese on their clamorous50 voyage through the sky. Fired by Sam Hawker's exhortations51, they were ready to lynch the black-whiskered stranger on sight.
Blackstock cursed them in a cold fury.
"I'll hev to go after them, Andy," said he, "or there'll be trouble when they find that there book agent."
"Better give 'em their head, Tug," protested the warden. "Guess he done it all right. He'll git no more'n's good for him."
"Maybe he did it, an' then agin, maybe he didn't," retorted the Deputy, "an' anyways, they're jest plumb52 looney now. You stay here, an' I'll follow them up. Send Bob back to the Ridge to fetch the coroner."
He turned and started on the run in pursuit of the shouting crowd, whistling at the same time for the dog to follow him. But to his surprise Jim did not obey instantly. He was very busy digging under a big whitish stone at the other side of the pool. Blackstock halted.
"Jim," he commanded angrily, "git out o' that! What d'ye mean by foolin' about after woodchucks a time like this? Come here!"
Jim lifted his head, his muzzle53 and paws loaded with fresh earth, and gazed at his master for a moment. Then, with evident reluctance54, he obeyed. But he kept looking back over his shoulder at the big white stone, as if he hated to leave it.
"There's a lot o' ordinary pup left in that there dawg yet," explained Blackstock apologetically to the game-warden.
"There ain't a dawg ever lived that wouldn't want to dig out a woodchuck," answered Stephens.
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1
warden
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| n.监察员，监狱长，看守人，监护人 | |
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ridge
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| n.山脊；鼻梁；分水岭 | |
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3
slashed
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| v.挥砍( slash的过去式和过去分词 )；鞭打；割破；削减 | |
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4
bloody
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| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
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interfered
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| v.干预( interfere的过去式和过去分词 )；调停；妨碍；干涉 | |
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6
arduous
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| adj.艰苦的，费力的，陡峭的 | |
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7
lamented
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| adj.被哀悼的，令人遗憾的v.（为…）哀悼，痛哭，悲伤( lament的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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8
tug
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| v.用力拖(或拉)；苦干；n.拖；苦干；拖船 | |
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9
awed
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| adj.充满敬畏的，表示敬畏的v.使敬畏，使惊惧( awe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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10
terse
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| adj.(说话，文笔)精炼的，简明的 | |
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11
pertinent
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| adj.恰当的；贴切的；中肯的；有关的；相干的 | |
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12
trot
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| n.疾走，慢跑；n.老太婆；现成译本；(复数）trots:腹泻（与the 连用）；v.小跑，快步走，赶紧 | |
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13
scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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14
instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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15
rout
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| n.溃退，溃败；v.击溃，打垮 | |
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shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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virulently
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| 恶毒地，狠毒地 | |
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garb
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| n.服装，装束 | |
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subscription
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| n.预订，预订费，亲笔签名，调配法，下标（处方） | |
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20
imperturbable
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| adj.镇静的 | |
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21
embroidering
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| v.（在织物上）绣花( embroider的现在分词 )；刺绣；对…加以渲染（或修饰）；给…添枝加叶 | |
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22
constable
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| n.(英国)警察，警官 | |
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23
exasperating
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| adj. 激怒的 动词exasperate的现在分词形式 | |
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24
heed
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| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
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25
jaws
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| n.口部；嘴 | |
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26
trotting
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| 小跑，急走( trot的现在分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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27
stony
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| adj.石头的，多石头的，冷酷的，无情的 | |
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28
stagnant
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| adj.不流动的，停滞的，不景气的 | |
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29
clotted
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| adj.凝结的v.凝固( clot的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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31
satchel
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| n.(皮或帆布的)书包 | |
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32
gaping
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| adj.口的；张口的；敞口的；多洞穴的v.目瞪口呆地凝视( gape的现在分词 )；张开，张大 | |
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33
memorandum
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| n.备忘录，便笺 | |
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34
upwards
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| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
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35
ribs
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| n.肋骨( rib的名词复数 )；（船或屋顶等的）肋拱；肋骨状的东西；（织物的）凸条花纹 | |
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36
crumpled
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| adj. 弯扭的, 变皱的 动词crumple的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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37
expectancy
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| n.期望，预期，（根据概率统计求得）预期数额 | |
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38
sniff
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| vi.嗅…味道；抽鼻涕；对嗤之以鼻，蔑视 | |
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39
sniffed
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| v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的过去式和过去分词 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
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40
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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41
smelt
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| v.熔解，熔炼；n.银白鱼，胡瓜鱼 | |
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42
drooping
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| adj. 下垂的，无力的 动词droop的现在分词 | |
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43
irresolution
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| n.不决断，优柔寡断，犹豫不定 | |
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44
clog
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| vt.塞满，阻塞；n.[常pl.]木屐 | |
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45
growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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46
elusive
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| adj.难以表达(捉摸)的；令人困惑的；逃避的 | |
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47
obliterating
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| v.除去( obliterate的现在分词 )；涂去；擦掉；彻底破坏或毁灭 | |
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48
scrutiny
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| n.详细检查，仔细观察 | |
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49
vehemently
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| adv. 热烈地 | |
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50
clamorous
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| adj.吵闹的，喧哗的 | |
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51
exhortations
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| n.敦促( exhortation的名词复数 )；极力推荐；（正式的）演讲；（宗教仪式中的）劝诫 | |
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52
plumb
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| adv.精确地，完全地；v.了解意义，测水深 | |
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53
muzzle
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| n.鼻口部；口套；枪(炮)口；vt.使缄默 | |
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54
reluctance
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| n.厌恶，讨厌，勉强，不情愿 | |
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