nge, strange thing to interfere with a dead man's last
resting-place--a dreadful thing."

"If there is a dead man there," said Spargo.

He himself was mainly curious about the details of this exhumation; he
had no scruples, sentimental or otherwise, about the breaking in upon
the dead. He watched all that was done. The men employed by the local
authorities, instructed over-night, had fenced in the grave with
canvas; the proceedings were accordingly conducted in strict privacy; a
man was posted to keep away any very early passersby, who might be
attracted by the unusual proceedings. At first there was nothing to do
but wait, and Spargo occupied himself by reflecting that every spadeful
of earth thrown out of that grave was bringing him nearer to the truth;
he had an unconquerable intuition that the truth of at any rate one
phase of the Marbury case was going to be revealed to them. If the
coffin to which they were digging down contained a body, and that the
body of the stockbroker, Chamberlayne, then a good deal of his,
Spargo's, latest theory, would be dissolved to nothingness. But if that
coffin contained no body at all, then--"

"They're down to it!" whispered Breton.

Presently they all went and looked down into the grave. The workmen had
uncovered the coffin preparatory to lifting it to the surface; one of
them was brushing the earth away from the name-plate. And in the now
strong light they could all read the lettering on it.

JAMES CARTWRIGHT CHAMBERLAYNE
Born 1852
Died 1891

Spargo turned away as the men began to lift the coffin out of the
grave.

"We shall know now!" he whispered to Breton. "And yet--what is it we
shall know if----"

"If what?" said Breton. "If--what?"

But Spargo shook his head. This was one of the great moments he had
lately been working for, and the issues were tremendous.

"Now for it!" said the _Watchman's_ solicitor in an undertone. "Come,
Mr. Spargo, now we shall see."

They all gathered round the coffin, set on low trestles at the
graveside, as the workmen silently went to work on the screws. The
screws were rusted in their sockets; they grated as the men slowly
worked them out. It seemed to Spargo that each man grew slower and
slower in his movements; he felt that he himself was getting fidgety.
Then he heard a voice of authority.

"Lift the lid off!"

A man at the head of the coffin, a man at the foot suddenly and swiftly
raised the lid: the men gathered round