"You watch him," he ordered the wounded member of the trio. "We'll get the sheriff."
Allowing Chacherre and his companion to take the lead, Gramont went with them to the place where the murdered officer lay. As he went, the conviction grew more sure within him that, when he lay there by the rivulet, he had actually heard the last words uttered by the sheriff; that Chacherre had committed the murder in that moment—a noiseless, deadly stab! That Hammond could or would have done it he knew was absurd.
They found the murdered man lying among the bushes. He had been stabbed under the fifth rib—the knife had gone direct to the heart. Chacherre announced that he had Hammond's knife as evidence and Gramont merely nodded his head.
Lifting the body between them, they bore it back to the barn.
"Now," said Gramont, quickly, "I'm off for Houma—if I don't miss my road! You men will be right along?"
"In a jiffy," said Chacherre, promptly.
Gramont climbed into his car and drove away. He had no fear of anything happening to Hammond; the evidence against the latter
