e fell to the floor, dropping the revolver from his pocket
as he did so.

Sammy assisted him to arise, and after he had sufficiently recovered,
the two men, accompanied by the mother and two daughters, started
toward the house of the next neighbor, where, arousing old Farmer
Allen, and leaving the ladies in his care, they proceeded in the
direction where the attack was said to have been made.

On their way they aroused two other neighbors, who, lighting
lanterns, joined the party in their search for the body of Mr.
Schulte.

Following the beaten path through the fields, and climbing over the
stone wall where Bucholz was reported to have been attacked, they
struck the narrow path that led through the woods. A short distance
beyond this the flickering rays of the lantern, as they penetrated
into the darkness beyond them, fell upon the prostrate form of a man.

The body lay upon its back; the clothing had been forcibly torn open,
and the coat and vest were thrown back as though they had been
hastily searched and hurriedly abandoned.

The man was dead. Those glassy eyes, with their look of horror, which
were reflected in the rays of the glimmering light; that pallid,
rigid face, with blood drops upon the sunken cheeks, told them too
plainly that the life of that old man had departed, and that they
stood in the awful presence of death.

Murdered! A terrible word, even when used in the recital of an event
that happened long ago. An awful word to be uttered by the cheerful
fireside as we read of the ordinary circumstances of every-day life.
But what horrible intensity is given to the enunciation of its
syllables when it is forced from the trembling lips of stalwart men,
as they stand like weird spirits in the darkness of the night, and
with staring eyes, behold the bleeding victim of a man's foul deed.
It seemed to thrill the ears and freeze the blood of the listeners,
as old Farmer Allen, kneeling down by that lifeless form, pronounced
the direful word.

It seemed to penetrate the air confusedly--not as a word, but as a
sound of fear and dread. The wind seemed to take up the burden of the
sad refrain, and whispered it shudderingly to the tall trees that
shook their trembling branches beneath its blast.

I wonder did it penetrate into the crime-stained heart of him who had
laid this harmless old man low? Was it even now ringing in his ears?
Ah, strive as he may--earth and sky and air will repeat in chorus
that dread