mutual glance. But everybody was talking, and intent upon the grisly
spectacle before them.
Poor fellow! Poor young fellow! This ought to be a lesson to grave
robbers! Muff Potter ll hang for this if they catch him! This was the
drift of remark; and the minister said, It was a judgment; His hand is
here.
Now Tom shivered from head to heel; for his eye fell upon the stolid
face of Injun Joe. At this moment the crowd began to sway and struggle,
and voices shouted, It s him! it s him! he s coming himself!
Who? Who? from twenty voices.
Muff Potter!
Hallo, he s stopped! Look out, he s turning! Don t let him get away!
People in the branches of the trees over Tom s head said he wasn t
trying to get away he only looked doubtful and perplexed.
Infernal impudence! said a bystander; wanted to come and take a quiet
look at his work, I reckon didn t expect any company.
The crowd fell apart, now, and the Sheriff came through, ostentatiously
leading Potter by the arm. The poor fellow s face was haggard, and
his eyes showed the fear that was upon him. When he stood before the
murdered man, he shook as with a palsy, and he put his face in his hands
and burst into tears.
I didn t do it, friends, he sobbed; pon my word and honor I never
done it.
Who s accused you? shouted a voice.
This shot seemed to carry home. Potter lifted his face and looked around
him with a pathetic hopelessness in his eyes. He saw Injun Joe, and
exclaimed:
Oh, Injun Joe, you promised me you d never
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