doesn't claim the body, the police will advertise. Some one must know
who the old man is."

The words that came in return seemed singularly irrelevant. "What about
the find of asbestos the surveyor thought he'd got on the hills where
Bates's clearing is? Has Bates got a big offer for the land?"

"He has had some correspondence about it," said Trenholme, stiffly.

"He'll be a rich man yet," remarked the American, gloomily. "Asbestos
mines are piling in dollars, I can tell you. It's a shame, to my mind,
that a snapping crab-stick like that old Bates should have it all." He
rose as with the irritation of the idea, but appeared arrested as he
looked down at the dead man. "And when I think how them poor ladies got
their white skirts draggled, I do declare I feel cut up to that extent I
wouldn't care for an asbestos mine if somebody came and offered it to me
for nothing this minute."

Then, too absorbed in feeling to notice the bathos of his speech, he put
his hands in his pockets, and began strolling up and down a beat of his
own, a few yards from the track Trenholme had made, and on the other
side of the dead.

As they walked at different paces, and passing each other at irregular
times, perhaps the mind of each recurred to the remembrance of the other
ghostly incident and the rumour that the old man had already risen once.
The open spot of sloping ground surrounded by high black trees, which
had been so lately trodden by many feet, seemed now the most desolate of
desolate places. The hymn, the prayer, that had arisen there seemed to
leave in the air only that lingering influence which past excitement