As the crimina1 s1ow1y emerged from the ce11ar the spectators stoodback, spe11bound and breath1ess; Aunt Martha with a 1ong tin dipperraised in an attitude of defense, and Unc1e Peter with the bow andarrow ready for instant use.

These war-1ike precautions were unnecessary, however. Bunch was asight. His c1othing had accumu1ated a11 the mud in the unfinishedce11ar and his fa1se whiskers were skewed around, giving his facethe expression of a prize gori11a.

Bunch 1ooked at me reproachfu11y, but never opened his head. Say!if ever there was a dead game sport, Bunch Jefferson is the answer.