Ben was with this set I was a-tellin’ you ’bout, and they’d got him to drinkin’ and in trouble, o’ course.  I’d knowed Ben well enough to know he wouldn’t do nothin’ onry ef he wasn’t agged on, and ef he ever was mixed up in anything o’ the kind Wes Morris and John Coke was at the bottom of it, and I take notice they wasn’t turned off when Ben was.

One night the crowd was out, and Ben amongst ’em, o’ course.—­Sence he’d be’n turned off he’d be’n a-drinkin’,—­and I never blamed him much; he was so good-hearted like and easy led off, and I allus b’lieved it wasn’t his own doin’s.

Well, this night they cut up awful, and ef ther was one fight ther was a dozend; and when all the devilment was done they could do, they started on a stealin’ expedition, and stold a lot o’ chickens and tuck ’em to the mill to roast’em; and, to make a long story short, that night the mill burnt clean to the ground.  And the whole pack of ’em cologued together aginst Carter to saddle it onto him; claimed ’at they left Ben there at the mill ’bout twelve o’clock—­which was a fact, far he was dead drunk and couldn’t git away.  Steve stumbled over him while the mill was a-burnin’ and drug him out afore he knowed what was a-goin’ on, and it was all plain enough to Steve ’at Ben didn’t have no hand in the firm’ of it.  But I’ll tell you he sobered up mighty suddent when he seed what was a-goin’ on, and heerd the neighbors a-hollerin’, and a-threatenin’, and a-goin’ on!—­far it seemed to be the ginerl idee ‘at the buildin’ was fired a-purpose.  And says Ben to Steve, says he, “I expect I’ll have to say good-bye to you, far they’ve got me in a ticklish place!  I kin see through it all now, when it’s too late!” And jist then Wesley Morris hollers out, “Where’s Ben Carter?” and started to’rds where me and Ben and Steve was a-standin’; and Ben says, wild like, “Don’t you two fellers ever think it was my doin’s,” and whispers “Good-bye,” and started off, and when we turned, Wesley Morris was a-layin’ flat of his back, and we heerd Carter yell to the crowd ‘at “that man”—­meanin’ Morris—­” needed lookin’ after worse than he did,” and another minute he plunged into the river and swum acrost; and we all stood and watched him in the flickerin’ light tel he clum out on t’other bank; and ’at was last anybody ever seed o’ Ben Carter!

It must a-be’n about three o’clock in the mornin’ by this time, and the mill then was jist a-smoulderin’ to ashes—­far it was as dry as tinder and burnt like a flash—­and jist as a party was a-talkin’ o’ organizin’ and follerin’ Carter, we heerd a yell ’at I’ll never fergit ef I’d live tel another flood.  Old Ezry, it was, as white as a corpse, and with the blood a-streamin’ out of a gash in his forehead, and his clothes half on, come a-rushin’ into the crowd and a-hollerin’ fire and murder ever’ jump.  “My house is a-burnin’, and my folks is all a-bein’ murdered while you ‘re a-standin’ here!  And Bills done it!  Bills done it!” he hollered, as he