its pungent odor, one would have taken it for God's brew instead of Doomdorf's. The sun lay on it and against the wall where hung the weapon that had ejected the dead man out of life.
"Abner," said Randolf, "this is murder! The woman took that gun down from the wall and shot Doomdorf while he slept."
Abner was standing by the table, his fingers round his chin.
"Randolph," he replied, "what brought Bronson here?"
"The same outrages that brought us," said Randolph. "The mad old circuit rider has been preaching a crusade against Doomdorf far and wide in the hills."
Abner answered, without taking his fingers from about his chin:
"You think this woman killed Doomdorf? Well, let us go and ask Bronson who killed him."
They closed the door, leaving the dead man on his couch, and went down into the court.
The old circuit rider had put away his horse and got an ax. He had taken off his coat and pushed his shirtsleeves up over his long elbows. He was on his way to the still to destroy the barrels of liquor. He stopped when the two men came out, and Abner called to him.
"Bronson," he said, "who killed Doomdorf?"
"I killed him," replied the old man, and went on toward the still.
6
