"I des tells you," he declared, "dey ain' no spooks fer us! Dere's
spooks on'y fer dem w'at kills folks on de sly-like. If ole Perkins
come rarin' en tarin' wid his gun en dawg, I des kill 'im ez I wud a
rattler en he kyant bodder me no mo'; but ef I steal on 'im now en
kill 'im in he sleep he ghos pester me ter daith. Dat de
conslomeration ob de hull business. I doan ax you ter do any ting
but he'p me skeer' im mos' ter daith. He watchin' lak a ole fox ter
ke'p you en Zany yere. Ef you puts out, he riz de kentry en put de
houn's arter you. We des got ter skeer 'im off fust. I'm studyin'
how ter git dat dawg out'n de way. Des go on quiet few mo' days en
ef you year quar noises up on de hill whar de sogers bur'ed you know
hit me. Look skeered lak de oders but doan be fear'd en keep mum."
The next few days and nights passed in quiet and all began to
breathe more freely. Even Aun' Jinkey rallied under the soothing
influence of her pipe and the privilege of watching part of each day
with Miss Lou.
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