of being black, is brown or brownish red. After her first
startled glance toward Bristow she stood with her head lowered and with
an expression of sulky stubbornness.

"Sit down!" he ordered after a few moments' silence, indicating a chair
near the wall.

She took her seat while he stepped to the door and closed it.

"Now, Lucy," he said, pulling at his lower lip as he stood in the middle
of the room and looked down at her, "I'm not going to hurt you, and
there's nothing for you to be afraid of. All I want you to do is to tell
me the truth."

In spite of his reassuring words, the woman caught the full meaning of
the goading sharpness in his voice. She immediately became more sullen.

"'Deed, I ain' got nothin' to tell 'bout you white folks," she said, with
a touch of insolence.

"This isn't about white folks," he corrected her, resisting his quick
impulse to anger. "It's about coloured folks."

"Nothin' 'bout dem neithuh," she continued in the same tone. "I don' know
nothin' 'cep'n I wuz drunk. I done tole all dat down at de p'lice
station."

"Listen to me!" he commanded, a little pale, "You know perfectly well
what I want to find out. I want you to tell me everything you remember
about Perry Carpenter's actions and words last Monday night--the night
before last."

She raised and lowered her eyes rapidly, the lids working like the
shutter of a camera.

"I knows what you wants, an' I knows I don' know nothin' 'tall 'bout it,"
she objected, her sullenness a patent defiance.

He stared at her for a full two minutes. She could hear the breath
whistling between his teeth; the sound of it frightened her.

"Don't lie to me!" he said, now a trifle hoarse. "It isn't necessary, and
it doesn't do anybody any good--you or Perry either."

She began to whimper.

Looking at her, he was conscious of being absorbed in the attempt to keep
his temper instead of eliciting what she had to tell. He smiled.

"Stop that sniffling, and tell me what you know about Monday night! Don't
you remember that Perry told you he was going to Mrs. Withers' house and
steal her jewelry?"

"I done tole you I don' remembuh nothin'."

He took a step toward her and lifted his open hand as if to strike her in
the face. Without waiting for the blow, she slid from the chair and fell
sprawling to the floor, where she lay, moaning.

"Get up!"

She obeyed him, her arms held folded over her head as a shield against
expected blows. She was stil