hens!), an' let John take
us in an' show us where ter wait. He put us in behind a pile o' little
rocks in about the middle o' the place near where Judge Ming hung out,
an' then retired on the main body at the double, leavin' us two in
outpost alone there together. I hadn't never been ter a Chino buryin'
ground before, an' night time wasn't extree pleasant fer a foist
introduce. There was a new moon that night--a little shavin' of a thing
that hardly gave no light, an' from where we was there was a twisty pine
tree branch that struck out right acrost it like a picture card--two fer
five. The graveyard was all dark an' quiet, with little piles o' rocks
an' stone tables ter mark the graves, an' a four- or five-foot wall
runnin' all round it; an' somehow, without nothin' stirrin' at all, the
whole blame place seemed chock full o' movin' shadders. There wasn't a
sound neither; not the least little thing; jus' them shadders; an' the
harder yous'd look at 'em the more they seemed ter move. It was cold,
too, like I told yer--bitin' cold--an' me an' Buck squatted there tight
together an' mos' friz. We waited, an' we waited, an' _we waited_, an'
we got skeerder, an' skeerder, an' _skeerder_, an', gee! how we
shivered! Every minute we thought we'd see Judge Ming, but a long time
went by an' he didn't come an' he _didn't_ come. There we set, strung up
tight an' ready ter snap like a banjo string, but nothin' ter see but
the shakin' shadders an' nothin' ter hear--nothin' but jus' dead, dead
silence.

"All of a suddent Buck (he kin hear a pin drop a mile away) nearly nips
a piece out'n my arm as he grips me. 'Listen!' says he.

"I listened an' listened, but I didn't hear nothin', an' I told him so.

"'Yes, yer do, yer bloke yer,' he whispers, 'Listen. Strain your years.'

"Then way off I did begin ter hear somepin'. It was a long, funny, waily
cry, sort o' like the way cats holler at each other at night. 'Oh-oo-oo,
oh-oo-oo!' like that, an' it come nearer an' nearer. Then all of a
suddent somepin' popped up on the graveyard wall about a hundred yards
away--somepin' all blue-gray against the hook o' the moon--an' began
walkin' up an' down an' hollerin'. I knew it was sayin' words, but I was
so far to the bad I didn't know nothin' an' couldn't make it out. I
never thought a feller's heart could bang so hard against his ribs
without bustin' out, an' me hair riz so high me campaign hat was three
inches off'n me head. I hope ter the Lo