He hunted up Eb Dennison, the town clerk, who also was the secretary of the cemetery association.

'Eb, he said, 'I want to buy a lot.

'But you've got a lot, protested Eb.

'That plot, said Mose, 'is a family plot. There's just room for me and Molly.

'Well, then, asked Eb, 'why another one? You have no other members of the family.

'I found someone in the woods, said Mose. 'I took him home and he died last night. I plan to bury him.

'If you found a dead man in the woods, Eb warned him, 'you better notify the coroner and sheriff,

'In time I may, said Mose, not intending to. 'Now how about that plot?

Washing his hands of the affair entirely, Eb sold him the plot.

Having bought his plot, Mose went to the undertaking establishment run by Albert Jones.

'Al, he said, 'there's been a death out at the house. A stranger I found out in the woods. He doesn't seem to have anyone and I aim to take care of it.

'You got a death certificate? asked Al, who subscribed to none of the niceties affected by most funeral parlor operators.

'Well, no, I haven't.

'Was there a doctor in attendance?

'Doc Benson came out last night.

'He should have made you out one. I'll give him a ring.

He phoned Doctor Benson and talked with him a while and got red around the gills. He finally slammed down the phone and turned on Mose.

'I don't know what you're trying to pull off, he fumed, but Doc tells me this thing of yours isn't even human. I don't take care of dogs or cats or-

'This ain't no dog or cat.

'I don't care what it is. It's got to be human for me to handle it. And don't go trying to bury it in the cemetery, because it's against the law.

Considerably discouraged, Mose left the undertaking parlor and trudged slowly up the hill toward the town's one and only church.