at this instant, Hammond voiced the thought in his mind.
"It's a frame-up!" said the chauffeur, angrily.
"That's likely, isn't it?" Chacherre flung the words in a sneer, but with a covert glance at Gramont. "This fellow is your chauffeur, ain't he? Well, we got to take him in to Houma, that's all."
"Where's the sheriff's body?" demanded Gramont, quietly.
"Over there," Chacherre gestured. "We ain't had a chance to bring him back yet—this fellow kept us busy. Maybe you want to frame up an alibi for him?"
Gramont paid no attention to the sneering tone of this last. He regarded Chacherre fixedly, thinking hard, keeping himself well in hand.
"You say the sheriff was here, then went over toward the Ledanois land?" he asked. "Did he go alone, or were you with him?"
"We were fixin' to follow him," asserted Chacherre, confidently. This was all Gramont wanted to know—that the man was lying. "We were trailin' along after him when he
