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 expectancy, with mouth open and tail gently wagging. "Take a good look at him, Jim," said Blackstock. The dog sniffed the body all over, and then looked up at his master as if for further directions. "An' now take a sniff at this." And he pointed to the rifled bag. "What do you make of it?" he inquired when the dog had smelt it all over minutely. Jim stood motionless, with ears and tail drooping, the picture of irresolution and bewilderment. Blackstock took out again the paper which he had just put away, and offered it to the clog, who nosed it carefully, then looked at the dead body beside the pool, and growled 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 elusive trail. At this point the crowd from the village, unable longer to restrain their eagerness, surged forward, led by Hawker, and closed in, effectually obliterating 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 scrutiny. "What's that bit o' paper ye found under him, Tug?" demanded Hawker vehemently. "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 clamorous voyage through the sky. Fired by Sam Hawker's exhortations, 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 plumb 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!"