lean-to, like a small shed or stable. Hither stole the dwarf, first
pausing to listen a moment at the door of the hut.

Leaning into the darkness of the shed, he gave a soft, crooning call.
Low growls of dogs came in quick reply. He stepped inside, and spoke to
them:

"Good dogs! good dogs! good Musket, Coffee, Filthy, Jo-Jo--steady,
steady, idiots!" for the huge brutes were nosing him, throwing
themselves against: him, and whining gratefully. Feeling the wall, he
took down some harness, and, in the dark, put a set on each dog--mere
straps for the shoulders, halters, and traces; called to them sharply to
be quiet, and, keeping hold of their collars, led them out into the
night. He paused to listen again. Presently he drove the dogs across
the road, and attached them to a flat vehicle, without wheels or runners,
used by Garotte for the drawing of lime and stones. It was not so heavy
as many machines of the kind, and at a quick word from the dwarf the
dogs darted away. Unseen, a mysterious figure hurried on after them,
keeping well in the shadow of the trees fringing the side of the road.

The dwarf drove the dogs down a lonely side lane to the village, and came
to the shed where lay the uncomely thing he had called brother. He felt
for a spot where there was a loose board, forced it and another with his
strong fingers, and crawled in. Reappearing with the dead body, he bore
it in his huge arms to the stoneboat: a midget carrying a giant. He
covered up the face, and, returning to the shed, placed his coat against
the boards to deaden the sound, and hammered them tight again with a
stone, after having straightened the grass about. Returning, he found
the dogs cowering with fear, for one of them had pushed the cloth off the
dead man's face with his nose, and death exercised its weird dominion