y excitement on P'laski,
an' so I did. He hollered tell dee say you could heah him two miles; he
fyahly lumbered." The old fellow gave a chuckle of satisfaction at the
reminiscence, and began to draw figures in the sand with his long stick.
Suddenly, however, he looked up.

"Ef I had a-intimated how much tribilation dat lumberin' wuz gwine to
get me in, he nuver would 'a' hollered. Dat come o' dat chicken-stealin'
nigger Jem Sinkfiel'; he cyahed him off."

He again became reflective, so I asked, "Haven't you seen him since?"

"Oh, yes, suh, I seen him since," he answered. "I seen him after I come
out o' jail; but 'twuz a right close thing. I thought I wuz gone."

"Gone! for whipping him?" "Nor, suh; 'bout de murder."

"Murder?"

"Yes, suh; murder o' him--o' P'laski." "But you did not murder him?"
"Nor, suh; an' dat wuz whar de trouble presisted. Ef I had a-murdered
him I'd 'a' knowed whar he wuz when dee wanted him; but, as 'twair, when
de time arrove, I wair unable to perduce him: and I come mighty nigh
forfeitin' my life."

My exclamation of astonishment manifestly pleased him, and he proceeded
with increased gravity and carefulness of dictation:

"You see, suh, 'twair dis way." He laid his stick carefully down, and
spreading open the yellowish palm of one hand, laid the index finger of
the other on it, as if it had been a map. "When I waked up nex' mornin'
an' called P'laski, he did not rappear. He had departured; an' so had my
shut! Ef 't hadn' been for de garment, I wouldn' 'a' keered so much, for
I knowed I'd git my han's on him some time: hawgs mos'ly comes up when
de acorns all gone! an' I know hick'ries ain't gwino stop growin': but
I wuz cawnsiderably tossified decernin' my garment, an' I gin Lucindy
a little direction 'bout dat. But I jos wont on gittin' my sumac, an'
whenever I como 'cross a right straight hick'ry, I geth-orod dat too,
an' laid it by, 'cus hick'ries grow mighty fine in ole fiel's whar
growin' up like. An' one day I wuz down in de bushes, an' Mr. 'Lias
Lumpkins, de constable, come rid-in' down dyah whar I wuz, an' ax me
whar P'laski is. Hit come in my mind torectly dat he warn' P'laski 'bout
de ring, an' I tell him I air not aware whar P'laski is: and den he tell
me he got warrant for me, and I mus' come on wid him. I still reposed,
in co'se, 'twuz 'bout de ring, an' I say I ain' had nuttin' to do wid
it. An' he say, 'Wid what?' An' I say, 'Wid de ring.' Den he say, 'Oh!'
an' he say,