"Sounds like burying some one," he whispered. "Don't say poor old
Blacksmith has gone?"
"No no," I said. "I know what it is. Wait till I've told you all I
have to tell, and then you'll know too."
He looked at me wonderingly, and I completed my account of the scene in
the black-hole place.
"Oh, I see," he cried; "it was the Chinaman?"
I nodded carelessly, but I felt more serious than ever before in my
life, at this horrible sequel to a fearful scene.