"And, Abner," his thin voice trebled, "you will let my brother be buried as he is?"
"If you sign!" said my uncle.
The man reeked and grew wet in the terror on him, and one thought that his billowy body would never be again at peace. "Randolph," he quavered, "bring me the deed."
Outside, the girl sobbed in Abner's arms. She asked for no explanation. She wished to believe her fortune a miracle of God, forever—to the end of all things. But Randolph turned on my uncle when she was gone.
"Abner! Abner!" he cried. "Why in the name of the Eternal was the old creature so shaken at the gloves?"
"Because he saw the hangman behind them," replied my uncle. "Did you notice how the rim of the dead man's face was riddled by the bird-shot and the center of it clean? How could that happen, Randolph?"
"It was a curious accident of gun-fire," replied the Justice.
"It was no accident at all," said Abner. "That area of the man's face is clean because it was protected. Because the dead man put up his hands to cover his face when he saw that his brother was about to shoot him.
"The backs of old Adam's hands, hidden by the gloves, will be riddled with bird-shot like the rim of his face."
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