tattooed on his breast.  It's jest a small, thin, blue arrow--that's what it is; and if you don't look clost, you can't see it.  _now_ what do you say--hey?” Well, I never see anything like that old blister for clean out-and-out cheek. The new old gentleman turns brisk towards Ab Turner and his pard, and his eye lights up like he judged he'd got the king _this_ time, and says: “There--you've heard what he said!  Was there any such mark on Peter Wilks' breast?” Both of them spoke up and says: “We didn't see no such mark.” “Good!” says the old gentleman. “Now, what you _did_ see on his breast was a small dim P, and a B (which is an initial he dropped when he was young), and a W, with dashes between them, so:  P--B--W”--and he marked them that way on a piece of paper. “Come, ain't that what you saw?” Both of them spoke up again, and says: “No, we _didn't_.  We never seen any marks at all.” Well, everybody _was_ in a state of mind now, and they sings out: “The whole _bilin_' of 'm 's frauds!  Le's duck 'em! le's drown 'em! le's ride 'em on a rail!” and everybody was whooping at once, and there was a rattling powwow.  But the lawyer he jumps on the table and yells, and says: “Gentlemen--gentle_men!_  Hear me just a word--just a _single_ word--if you _please_!  There's one way yet--let's go and dig up the corpse and look.” That took them. “Hooray!” they all shouted, and was starting right off; but the lawyer and the doctor sung out: “Hold on, hold on!  Collar all these four men and the boy, and fetch _them_ along, too!” “We'll do it!” they all shouted; “and if we don't find them marks we'll lynch the whole gang!” I _was_ scared, now, I tell you.  But there warn't no getting away, you know. They gripped us all, and marched us right along, straight for the graveyard, which was a mile and a half down the river, and the whole town at our heels, for we made noise enough, and it was only nine in the evening. As we went by our house I wished I hadn't sent Mar