“Any objection to deputizin’ me?” said Scattergood.  “Any notion I might help some?”

“Glad to have you, Scattergood....  Got to hustle.  Most likely the murderer’s escapin’ this minute.”

“Um!...” said Scattergood.  “Need any catridges or anythin’ in the hardware line, Sheriff?  Figgerin’ on goin’ armed, hain’t you?”

“Dunno but what the boys’ll need somethin’.  You keep open till I gather ’em here.”

“I carry the most reliable line of catridges in the state,” said Scattergood.  “Prices low....  I’ll be waitin’, Sheriff.”

In twenty minutes a dozen citizens of the vicinage gathered at Scattergood’s store, each armed with his favorite weapon, rifle or double-barreled shotgun, and each wearing what he fancied to be the air of a dangerous and resolute citizen.

“Calc’late he’ll be desprit,” said Jed Lewis.  “He won’t be took without a fight.”

It was characteristic of Scattergood that he delayed the setting out of the posse until, by his peculiar methods of salesmanship, he had pressed upon various members lethal merchandise to a value of upward of twenty dollars.  This being done, they entered a big picnic wagon with parallel seats and set out for the scene of the crime.  Coroner Bogle demanded that the body should be viewed officially before the man-hunt should begin.  Scattergood threw the weight of his opinion with the coroner.

The body was found lying beside a narrow path leading from the road through a field to Asa Levens’s farmhouse; it lay upon its face, with arms outstretched, very still and very peaceful, with the morning sun shining down upon it, and the robins singing from shadowing trees, and insects buzzing and whirring cheerfully in the fields, and the fields themselves peaceful and beautiful in their golden embellishments, ready for the harvest.  Scattergood looked about him at the trappings of the day, and the thought came unbidden that it was a pleasant spot in which to die ... perhaps more pleasant than the dead man deserved.

“Shot from behind.” said the sheriff.

“By somebody a-layin’ in wait,” said Jed Lewis.

“It was murder—­cold-blooded murder,” said the sheriff.

Scattergood stepped forward as the coroner turned the face up to the light of the sun.

“It was a death by violence,” said Scattergood.  “It may be murder....  Asa Levens wears, as he lies, the face of a man who troubled God....”

There was none in that little group to comprehend his meaning.

“There was no struggle,” said the coroner.

“He never knowed he was shot,” said Jed Lewis.

“Be you still a-goin’ to arrest Abner Levens?” Scattergood asked.

“To be sure.  He done it, didn’t he?  Who else would ‘a’ killed Asa?”

“Who else?” said Scattergood, solemnly.

They raised Asa Levens and carried him to his house.  Having left him in proper custody, the posse re-entered its picnic van and drove with no small trepidation toward Abner Levens’s farm, a mile away.  Abner Levens was perceived from a distance, hoeing in a field.