A Graveyard to Let
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MURDER MOST FOUL
The young man he saw running—slowly now, with panting breath—was one whose name or face Cy did not know. But he was one of the outfielders who had been sent to get a lost ball. He was now gasping out words like, "flashlight," and "doctor." He stumbled up to them, his eyes scared under the peaked cap.
"What is it, son?" H.M.'s big voice demanded.
"Out in that graveyard," the young man said between breaths, "the graveyard they don't use any more... on one of the tombstones..."
"Well?"
"Bill and I," the young man said, "found someone's body."
