the room engaged in playing cards. The merest suggestion as to the complicity of these two men with Green in ruining Hammond, and thus driving him mad, was enough to excite strong feeling against them; and now that the mob had been cheated of its victim, its pentup indignation sought eagerly some new channel.
"Where's Slade?" some one asked, in a loud voice, from the centre of the crowded bar-room. "Why does he keep himself out of sight?"
"Yes; where's the landlord?" half a dozen voices responded.
"Did he go on the hunt?" some one inquired.
"No!" "No!" "No!" ran round the room. "Not he."
"And yet, the murder was committed in his own house, and before his own eyes!"
"Yes, before his own eyes!" repeated one and another, indignantly.
"Where's Slade? Where's the landlord?
