At that instant there came a rush of footsteps across the front porch
and in burst Ed Higgins and "Blootch" Peabody, fairly gasping with
excitement.
"Hurry up, Anderson--down to the jail," sputtered the former; and then
he was gone like the wind. "Blootch," determined to miss nothing,
whirled to follow, or pass him if possible. He had time to shout over
his shoulder as he went forth without closing the door:
"The old woman has lynched herself!"
It would now be superfluous to remark, after all the convulsions
Tinkletown had experienced inside of twenty-four hours, that the
populace went completely to pieces in face of this last trying
experiment of Fate. With one accord the village toppled over as if
struck by a broadside and lay, figuratively speaking, writhing in its
own gore. Stupefaction assailed the town. Then one by one the minds of
the people scrambled up from the ashes, slowly but surely, only to
wonder where lightning would strike next. Not since the days of the
American Revolution had the town experienced such an incessant rush of
incident. The Judgment Day itself, with Gabriel's clarion blasts, could
not be expected to surpass this productive hour in thrills.
It was true that old Maude had committed suicide in the calaboose. She
had been placed on a cot in the office of the prison and Dr. Smith had
been sent for, immediately after her arrival; but he was making a call
in the country.
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