up, I did, and looked in. Lord
Gawd Amighty! The red curting was down on the inside, and I seen
through it, I swar to Gawd I did, sir! I seen clar spang through into
that room, and thar stood Marster in his night clothes, jest so--and
thar stood that murdering vil'yan close to him, holding the tin box
so--and Marster with the handi'on jest daring him to cum on--and--and
oh! I am glad to know my Marster was game to the last, died game! Never
show'd no white feather while thar was breath in his body. Mars Lennox,
I jest drapped on my knees, and I trimbled, and my teeth chattered, and
I felt the hair as it riz straight up. I was afeer'd to stay, and I was
afeer'd to move; but I shet my eyes and crawled back'ards easy to the
aidge of the steps, and then run as fast as I could. I wanted Dyce to
see, too, but the poor cretur is so crippled she can't walk, and as she
weighs two hundred and twenty pounds, I couldn't tote her; so I tole
her what I seen, and she sent me straight to find Mars Alfred fust, and
you next. I run to Mars Alfred's office, and he was out, so I kep' on
here. I know'd you lie'yers was barking up the wrong tree, and
wrongfully pussecutin' that poor young gal; and now the very sperrits
have riz up to testify fur her. If you two can face ole Marster's
ghost, and tell him you know better than he did who killed him, you've
got better pluck and backbone than I give you credit fur."

"What did you eat last night, Bedney? Baked possum, and fried
chitterlings? Evidently you have had a heavy nightmare."

Mr. Churchill drew a match across the heel of his boot, and lighted a
cigar; looking quizzically at the old man, who was wiping the
perspiration from his face.

"There's the carridg, I hear the wheels. Mars Lennox and Mars Alfred,
there is one thing I insists on havin'. The law is all lop-sided from
fust to last in this here case, and I want it squoze into shape, till
t'other side swells out a little. I want the Crowner to go up yonder
now, and hold another inquess. He's done sot all wrong on the body, and
now let him set on the sperrit if he kin. I'm in plum earnest. The
Crowner swore that poor young gal knocked Marster in the head with the
handi'on; and yonder stands Marster, ready to brain that man--with that
handi'on hilt tight in his own right hand. Now what I wants to know is,
WHAR is the 'delectible corpus' what you lieyers argufied over?"

"You doting old humbug! If you decoy us on a wild goose chase I sh