t naberhood, he sorter drap in dar,
en pick up a lot er money by sorter tradin' en watchin' 'roun' de edges,
en a kine uv cotton swapper, en wo' fine duds en' de bigges' watch-chain
yo' ever see--"

"Judge, will you pull that old nigger back to this case?" said Budlong.

"In due time, sah, in due time," said the police-Judge, who wanted to
hear the outcome of Brad's story.

"Yassir, en Mistah Brandon Fontaine en Kernel Poindexter, dey met in
front uv de post-office, en Mistah Brandon Fontaine he smokin' a long,
black seegar, en one foot crossed on tuther, en when Kernel Poindexter
come up, Mistah Fontaine say, 'Yo' dawg cut thru en got in de lead,' en
Kernel Poindexter, he look jes ez cool ez a cabbage-leaf, en he say,
'Hit's a scan'lous lie, frum low trash!' Kernel Poindexter done turned
white en his eye wuz all glitter--"

"I told you, for the last time, to tell what you know about this case!"

"Yassir, easy, Marse Jim. Gimme a chanst. En Mr. Brandon Fontaine kinder
thode hi han' behine him, en' Kernel Poindexter crac' erway at him en
bust a bottle uv whiskey inside his pocket en dis hyar Mistah Fontaine,
he showed de _yaller_ jes' lak Mr. Freeman did yestiddy, en he rin so
fas' dat yo' could play checkers on his coat-tail!"

"Stand aside," roared Budlong.

The case went to the jury. That august body retired to deliberate. The
stragglers near the window heard hot words and wrangling in the
jury-room. In the course of an hour, the door opened and the jury filed
in.

"Have you reached a verdict, gentlemen?"

"We have," said the foreman.

"What is it?"

"We don't find no evidence to convict nobody."

"So help me, Caesar!" said Budlong.

CHAPTER XVI

John Burney was clearing away the wreck of a coal-barge that had drifted
under the lower edge of the wharfboat. The water had fallen, leaving
part of the barge on shore. Burney had used every known method in trying
to remove the wreckage. Old Pence Oiler came by and walked up to the
heavy mass of timbers and called to Burney, "John, she's too wet to
burn, and there ain't but one way to git her off, an' that's to lay a
stick of dynamite under the front end, give her a slow fuse and blow her
out."

Burney called to Shawn, who was on the bank, and asked him to go down to
Bennett's mill and get a stick of dynamite, and Shawn, desirous of
seeing the blast, hastened on the errand.

"Be careful how you handle that goods," said Bennett, "I knowed a
felle