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 shall feel like cutting one of your ears off!”

“Slit ’em both and welcome, Mars Alfred, if you don’t find I’m telling you the Gawd’s truth.  I feel all tore up, root and branch, and if folks could be scared to death, I should be stretched out this minute on the west piazzar.  I had my doubts about ghosts and sperrits, and I lost my religion when I cotch our preacher brandin’ one of my dappled crumple-horned hefers with his i’on; but Bedney Darrington is a changed pusson.  Come en, let’s see which of you will dar to laugh up yonder.”

“Are you really bent on humoring this insane or idiotic vagary?” asked Mr. Churchill, as he saw his companion take his hat and prepare to follow the negro, who had left the room.

“His terror is genuine, and his superstitious tale is probably the outer shell of some kernel of fact that may possibly be valuable.  In cases of circumstantial evidence, you and I know the importance of looking carefully into the merest trifles.  Come with me; you can spare an hour.”