Then the crowd slowly and reluctantly dispersed.
Meanwhile the town marshal, under cover of the excitement, had descended on the gas house where tramps congregated of winter nights for warmth and shelter.

Here he found shivering over a can of beer, two homeless wretches, whom he arrested as suspicious characters.

After this, official activity languished, for the official mind could think of nothing more to do.
With the scattering of the crowd on the Square, Shrimplin climbed into his cart and drove off home.

The smother of wind-driven snow still enveloped the, town, the very air seemed charged with mystery and horror, and before the little lamplighter's eyes was ever the haunting vision of the murdered man.
He drove into the alley back of his house, unhitched Bill and led him into the barn.

His torch made the gloom of the place more terrifying than utter darkness would have been.