All sprang forward, and the doctor uttered a cry as of terror.

Hastily the earth was removed from the buried object, until it could be lifted to the surface.

Chick stepped forward, and brushed the last of the earth from the face with his handkerchief.  Then it was dragged to where the moon shone full upon it.

A murmur arose from the little party.  The face of the dead man was cut and mangled with many wounds.

“It’s Pat,” said one of those who had assisted in the digging.  “There’s no doubt about it.”

“Yes,” said Haskell, who was shivering with fear, “I recognize the clothes he had on.”

“He’s got no coat,” said one of the men; “where’s that?”

“It was hanging on a tree in this garden,” said Deever.

Then he bent forward over the corpse, and took from around the neck a string to which a little cheap locket was attached.

“He always wore that, poor boy,” said one of the men.

Deever turned to where Dr. Jarvis stood.  The face of the doctor was whiter than paper, as the moon shone down upon it.

“What do you say now, Jarvis?” said Deever, coldly.  “Do you confess your crime?”

The doctor recovered himself with a mighty effort.

“No,” he cried.  “I deny all responsibility for this man’s death.”

CHAPTER V.

The body on the slab.

Nobody seemed to be much impressed by Jarvis’ declaration of innocence.

The finding of the body in the exact spot indicated by Haskell looked like conclusive proof.  Added to this was the doctor’s presence beside the grave in the dead of night.

“It’s a plain case,” said Deever, turning toward Nick.  “Will you make the arrest now?”

Dr. Jarvis shuddered as these words were spoken.  It was easy to see that he was on the verge of despair.

“Let’s not go too fast,” said Nick.

“What stronger proof can you possibly desire?” exclaimed Deever.

He seemed to be dazed with surprise at Nick’s delay, but Dr. Jarvis plucked up his courage.

“I wish first to examine the body,” said Nick.

He bent over the corpse which lay in the bright moonlight.  The cause of death was evident at a glance.  The head had been beaten and cut in a frightful manner.

“See,” said Deever, bending over the body, “these wounds were made with a spade.”

“They have that appearance,” said Nick.

“Why, it’s as plain as the nose on your face,” exclaimed Deever, utterly losing patience.

He seized a spade from the ground and applied it to the wounds.

“The first blow, the one which killed him,” said Deever, “was struck with the side of the spade on the top of the poor boy’s head.  It was a terrible blow.”

Nick examined the wound.  It was plain that no person could live a minute after receiving such a fearful injury.