Bishop and the Boogerman Read online

  PART IV

  And now, good comrades, what shall it be, A dungeon cell or a gallows tree?

  --_Varner's Lynching Songs._

  Never, since the day you were born, have you seen such a jump, or heardsuch a grunt as old Jonas gave. You would have thought the Ku-Klux hadhim, for this was the year Eighteen-Hundred-and-under-the-Bushes, withold Raw-Head-and-Bloody-Bones keeping his green eyes wide open. For onebrief and fleeting moment, old Jonas's whole body seemed to be wrenchedout of socket, as Mr. Sanders said afterward; his hat fell off, and itwas as much as he could do to keep his feet. He scowled, and then hetried to smile, but the scowl felt very much at home on his wrinkledcountenance, and refused to be ousted by a feeble smile.

  Even the visitor, whose name was Augustus Tidwell, was startled, and heshowed it in his face, but he recovered much sooner than old Jonas did.He was one of the most prominent lawyers in that whole section, whereprominent lawyers were plentiful. He was dignified, because he had tolive up to his position, but all his dignity was dispersed by Adelaideand her Bishop. Adelaide called Mr. Tidwell her Injun-rubber because hewore his hair long, so that it fell in glistening waves over his coatcollar. This gave him a very romantic appearance, and when engaged inthe practice of law he always made the most of it; he could tousel hishair and look the picture of rage; he could push it straight back fromhis wide forehead, and seem to stand for innocence and virtue; and hecould ruffle it up on one side, and tell juries how they should find incases where the interests of his clients were concerned.

  But dignity and a romantic appearance couldn't stand before Adelaide andher Bishop. Mr. Sanders, with the red silk handkerchief thrown over hishead and tied under his chin, was a sight you would have gone far tosee. He had such marvellous control of his features that, one moment hehad the appearance of an overgrown baby, and the next, he was the livingimage of an old country granny who had come to town to swap a pound ofsnow-white butter for a hank or two of spun-truck. The fact is, Adelaidewas compelled to roll on the floor and kick, so acute were the paroxysmsof laughter. Mr. Sanders laughed, too, but when Adelaide glanced at himhe would wipe the smile from his face and look as solemn as a realtruly-ann Bishop; and this was worse than laughing, for Adelaide wouldbe compelled to roll over the floor again.

  Old Jonas didn't have any of the pains that come from laughter. At firsthe was frightened nearly to death at the manifestations for whichAdelaide and her Bishop were responsible; then the reaction was towardhot anger, which finally developed into a feeling of impatient disgustat the spectacle which Mr. Sanders presented.

  "Sanders," he said, sharply and earnestly, "if I didn't know you I'd bewilling to swear you had gone crazy! Why, who under the blue sky everheard of a grown man indulging in such antics and capers! It's simplyscandalous, that's what it is."

  "It is that-away!" blandly remarked Mr. Sanders. "An' more especiallyit's a scandal when me an' that child thar can't have five minnits' funall by ourselves but what you come a-stickin' your head in the door, an'try for to turn a somerset wi'out liftin' your feet off'n the floor! Ileave it to Gus Tidwell thar ef anybody in this house has cut up morecapers than what you have. I wish you could 'a' seed yourself when youwas flinging your hat on the floor, an' tryin' for to keep your feet ina slanchindic'lar position, an' workin' an' twistin' your mouth like youwas tryin' for to git it on top of your head--ef you could 'a' seed allthat you'd agree wi' me that thar wa'n't no room in this house for youthan' innocence."

  Adelaide took advantage of the conversation to run out of the room tosee if Cally-Lou had been frightened by all the noise; and presently themen heard her relating all the circumstances to her brown Ariel, andlaughing almost as heartily at her own recital as she laughed when Mr.Sanders winked at her with the red handkerchief on his head.

  "Who is she talking to?" Lawyer Tidwell inquired.

  "Just talking to herself," responded old Jonas, with unnecessarytartness.

  "Don't you nigh believe it, Gus," said Mr. Sanders. "She ain't twins,an' she's talkin' to some un that she can see an' we can't. Why, ef tharwa'n't nothin' thar, she'd be the finest play-actor that ever played ina county courthouse."

  "She is certainly a wonderful child," said the lawyer. "Lucindy broughther to see my wife the other day, and I happened to be at home. I neverenjoyed anybody's company so well on a short acquaintance as I did hers.My wife is daft about her, and she believes with you, Mr. Sanders, thatthe Cally-Lou she talks about so much is really her companion."

  "Why, tooby shore, Gus. Children see an' know a heap things that theydon' say nothin' about for fear they'll be laughed at. All you've got todo to see Cally-Lou is turn your head quick enough. I ain't limberenough myself, an' I reckon I never will be any more."

  "Speaking of Lucindy, Mr. Sanders, I wanted to see you about some littlebusiness of hers, and it's business that she doesn't know anythingabout. Moreover, she wouldn't help matters much if she knew about it. Idon't know how Mr. Whipple feels, but I know very well how you and Ifeel. You don't need to be told that nearly all the negroes have fallenout of sympathy with the whites; but there are a few we can still trustand have a genuine friendship for--and Lucindy is one of them. Now, Iwas sitting in my office to-day reading, when all of a sudden I heardsomeone talking in low tones. I didn't hear everything that was said,but I heard enough to learn that Lucindy's son Randall is somewhere inthe county."

  "He shorely is for a fact!" exclaimed Mr. Sanders. "Right in the state,county, town, an' deestrick aforesaid. Go on, Gus."

  "Well you know, he's the boy that came within an ace of putting oldTuttle out of business in 1864. But now old Tuttle is the RadicalOrdinary, elected by the niggers, and he is afraid to bring suit againstRandall in the Superior Court. But he wants the boy put out of businessif it can be done without mixing his name with the affair. I couldn'toverhear all that was said, but I heard enough to know that old Tuttleintends to have Randall arrested on a charge of assault with intent tomurder, and run him out of the county. Now, I wouldn't care a snap of myfinger if it wasn't for the fact that Randall is Lucindy's son, and hemust be taken care of. I don't know how you gentlemen feel about it, butthat's the way I feel."

  "Ef it'll do you any good to know," Mr. Sanders remarked, "me an' Jonasfeel exactly the same way; an' what's more, we don't intend that Randallshall be run off. He's right here on this lot, an' here he's a-gwine tostay, ef I have any sesso in the matter. I'll pay his board, Jonas, efthat'll suit you, bekaze I've got a crow to pick wi' ol' Tuttle, an'when I git it picked he'll have more loose feathers than he kin walk offwi'. Jest mark that down."

  "Pish-tush!" exclaimed old Jonas, smacking his thin lips, and frowning.He rose and went to the back door, and presently the others heard himcalling Randall, who seemed to be somewhat slow in answering--so much sothat Lucindy's voice was added to his.

  "Randall!" she cried, "what in de name er goodness you doin' in dar?Don't you hear Mr. Whipple hollain' atter you? Look like you des eztriflin' now as what you wuz when you loped off!"

  Randall replied after a while, and old Jonas's command was, "Come here,you no account scoundrel, and black my shoes!"

  "Why, Jonas," said Mr. Sanders, when the former had returned to theroom, "ain't you afraid you'll take cold? You ain't had your shoesblacked sence the war!"

  The only reply old Jonas made to that was in the shape of a scowl.Randall came running with a puzzled expression on his face. He droppedhis hat somewhere outside the door, and went in.

  "They tell me," said old Jonas, somewhat curtly, "that you are studyingto be a bishop."

  "That's what I laid off in my mind, suh. It come to me when I hear umprayin' an' singin'; I allow to myself, I did, that ef it's all ez purtyan' ez nice ez that, they wa'n't nothin' gwine to keep me from bein' aminister when the time got ripe. That's what I said to myself, suh."

  "Well," remarked Mr. Sanders, reassuringly, "you've already got to be aBoogerman, an' I reckon that's long step forrerd."

  "Black my shoes!" commande
d old Jonas in a tone that was almost brutal.Randall hustled around until he found an old box of blacking that hadbeen in the kitchen for many years. With this and an old brush thatLucindy found in some impossible place, he proceeded to give old Jonas'sshoes a polish that caused them to shine brightly.

  "Don't you think it is beneath the dignity of a pastor to black shoes?"old Jonas asked.

  Randall chuckled. "That's the way some white folks'd feel about it," heanswered; "but me--I'm black, an' I ain't got no business for to feelso--not me! St. Paul, or it may be St. Timothy, he says, somewhere, Idunner 'zackly where, 'What your han' finds to do, let your heartcommend.'"

  "Wa'n't it Shakespeare said that?" Mr. Sanders inquired.

  "It mought 'a' been, suh," replied Randall. "All I know, it was some ofthem Bible folks. They say, 'Do what yo' han' finds to do, an' do itbetter'n some un else could 'a' done it.' That's why you see these shoeslookin' like they're spang new."

  "'That's why you see these shoes lookin' like they'respang new'"]

  "Why, I should have thought that a man who is studying to be a bishop,"said old Jonas, sharply, "would think himself above blacking anybody'sshoes."

  "It may be so, suh, in some parts of the country and amongst somepeople, but it ain't that-away wid me--I may come to it, suh, but Iain't come to it yit."

  Randall finished the shoes, and offered to black those of the other menpresent, but they declined, and then old Jonas fished around in hispocket for a shin-plaster small enough to fit the job that had beendone. He found a ragged one that faintly promised to pay the bearer fivecents on demand, but Randall recoiled from it, and held up his hands inprotest. "No, suh! Oh, no, suh! It was wuth all I done jest to hearyou-all gentermens talkin' kinder friendly like. Ef you-all had all thetrouble I uv done had, all the time dodgin' an' lookin roun' corndersfer fear er Mr. Tuttle er some er his kinnery--he's got um all up darwhar I been--you'd be mo' than thankful for to hear some un talkin' likede nex' minnit ain't 'gwine ter be de las'. I done got it proned interme that I'm gwine for to be Ku-Klucked long 'fo' I have gray ha'r. Youdunner how nice it is for to have white folks talkin' like they ain'tgwine to kill you yet awhile."

  To any one who knew little of the negro race, Randall's remarks wouldhave sounded tremendously like a sly joke, with a little irony thrown infor good measure; but though the negro's voice was soft and deliberate,he was terribly in earnest, and those who heard him understood andappreciated this simple recital of a harrowing experience already behindhim, and his lively fear of something worse to come.

  "Well, when you get to be a bishop," remarked old Jonas, "I expect youto come and black my shoes."

  "I'll do it, suh, an' be glad to do it. Des take yo' stan' anywhere,jest so it's a public place, an' holla at me, an' tell me you want yo'shoes blacked. I'll do it, suh, in the face of ten thousand."

  "I believe you would!" exclaimed old Jonas almost gleefully.

  "You don't hafter b'lieve me, suh; jest holla at me, an' yo shoes'll beblacked."

  With that, Randall started out of the room, but Mr. Sanders raised hishand. "B'ar in mind, Boogerman, that you're not to leave the lot afterdark. Old Tuttle is a rank Radical, an' a nigger-lover for what revenuethar is in it, but he's fixin' up his tricks for to give you a taste ofthe Radical-Republican movement, an' he's got to be watched. We'll dothe watchin' ef you'll do the hidin'."

  "I'll be more than glad to do that, suh," said Randall, with invinciblepoliteness--"mo' than glad. I uv got so now, sence freedom come, that Ican hide most as good as I can eat; an' when I say that, you may know itmeans sump'n."

  "I reckon it does," said old Jonas, "something to me!"

  Randall laughed pleasantly, and bowed himself out. In a moment the menin the sitting-room heard him talking to Adelaide in the entry.

  "My goodness, little mistiss! A little mo' an' you'd a skeer'd mecrooked--an' I ain't right straight now. I had de idee that I was to bethe Boogerman, but ef you go on this-a-way, you'll be the Boogerman."

  "Oho!" laughed Adelaide; "don't you know that a young lady could neverbe a Boogerman?"

  "Well, I declare!" Randall exclaimed almost joyously; "that certainly isso in these days of tribulation. But that ain't all; I uv got a biggerBoogerman than you uv got. How is Miss Cally-Lou?"

  "Oh, shucks!" replied Adelaide, "you don't have to call her miss; sheain't right white. Don't you see her standing here by me?"

  "Well, suh!" exclaimed the Boogerman in the tone of one who has justmade a remarkable discovery. "Ef I don't, I most does; an' when you gitthat close to Cally-Lou it's the same as seein' her. She don't lookright well to me," said the Boogerman at a venture.

  "Then you do see her," remarked Adelaide; "she hasn't been well for aday or two."

  "Make her git outdoors, an' take the fresh air," suggested theBoogerman.

  This suggestion seemed to meet the views of Adelaide, for she went outinto the yard, crying, "Come along, Cally-Lou! Come along!"

  Old Jonas stirred uneasily in his chair, "Do you know, Sanders," hesaid, "that my grandmother had a little mulatto girl named Cally-Lou. AsI remember her, she was the smartest little thing that ever ran about ontwo legs. I wonder----" Old Jonas paused, and Mr. Sanders didn't givehim time to straighten out his thought.

  "No, Jonas; you don't wonder, an' you needn't pertend to. Nuther herenor here-arter, will that sorter thing work. When I ketch you wonderin',I'll know you've took one of them infectious diseases that you readabout. You could see Cally-Lou, an' so could I, if our gizzards was inthe right place. But I kin say as much as that nigger did--I mighty nighseed her. Folks tell me that you kin see the wind ef you'll take ahandsaw at the right time of day, an' hold it so the breeze kin blowover it. I an't got the least doubt that we could see a heap of thingsthat we never do see, ef we know'd when, an' whar, an' how to look."

  The three men were silent a long time until Lawyer Tidwell remarked,with something that sounded like a sigh, "I reckon we'd better be going,Mr. Sanders." They went away, leaving old Jonas alone in the house. Heneither bade them good-bye, nor turned his head when they went. But whenhe heard the door shut, he went to the window, as if to make sure theyhad really gone; and when he was satisfied on this point, he shuffled tothe back porch, and called for Randall. The negro came silent, butwondering. For years he had been in a state of uneasy expectation, andhe found it almost impossible to free himself from it now. Old Jonas wasblunt and brief.

  "Go over to the courthouse, walk into the Ordinary's office, and ask ifMr. Sanders and Lawyer Tidwell have been there. As a matter of fact,they haven't been there, and they are not going there, but old Tuttlewill think they are coming and he'll be worried about it. I want you toshow yourself to him just once. Answer every question he asks you. Tellhim where you are staying; say that I have employed you; but pretend youdon't know him. Then walk around the public square, and through thetown, make yourself known to some of your coloured friends, and comeright back here and go to work about the lot and yard just as if you hadbeen here a long time."

  Randall made no reply; he merely stood scratching his head, and fumblingwith his hat trying hard to come to some understanding, however dim, ofthe motive and purpose that lay behind old Jonas's command; but, try ashe would, he couldn't make out the puzzle that seemed to envelope andbecloud his mind. Still fumbling with his hat, and standing on first onefoot and then the other, he remarked, with some hesitation, "Well, suh,I'll go ef it's yo' will--but you know what St. Paul (er it may be St.Second Timothy) tells us. He tells us, one er both, for to go notwhether we'll be treated contretemptous, not by day an' not bynight--Paul er St. Second Timothy, one er both."

  Old Jonas regarded the negro with amazement; for the first time in hislife he had a whiff of the kind of education the negroes were picking uphere and there.

  That, or something else irritated him, and he spoke with some heat."Well, confound you! do just as you please! Go or don't go--you're free,I reckon. But if you do go, say to old Tuttle that you're glad to seehim looking so
well. You are a Republican, I reckon?"

  "Yes, sir," replied Randall, with some degree of hesitation; "ef you putit that way, I speck I is. Nobody ain't never gi' me no chanst for to beanything else. I jest did squeeze in the Northron Methodist Church; efI'd 'a' had on a long coat, the tail would 'a' been ketched in the crackof the door. All these here new doin's an' new fashions makes me feelright ticklish, an' sometimes I ketch myself laughin' when they ain'tnothin' to laugh at, an' it took me long for to find out that when youlaugh in the wrong place it's because you ought to be cryin' by goodrights. All this has been gwine on now some time, an' I done come tothat pass that when a piece of paper blows round the cornder rightsudden, I mighty nigh jump out'n my skin. I'm tellin' you the plaintruth, suh! An' now, after all this, you want me to put on what littlecloze I got an' walk right into Mr. Tuttle's jaws--the identual man thatI've been runnin' fum I dunner how long--him that I come mighty nighjoltin' across--I done forgot what St. Luke (or maybe it wuz St.Mark--they run so close together in the book that I skacely know t'otherfum which). Anyhow, they's a Bible name for the thing you want me to do;an' I tell you right now, I dunner whether for to do it or not. Youwhite folks don't keer much what you do--I've done took notice of that;but when it comes down to a plain nigger, why, he's got to walk as thinas a batter cake; he's got to step like he's afeard of stickin' a needlein his foot. I'm tellin' you the truth, suh; I been dodgin' an' hidin'so long that when I hear anybody walkin' fast behind me, the fleshcrawls on my back--yes, suh, natchally crawls--an' I have to hol' mybreath for to keep fum breakin' loose an' runnin'. I'll go there, suh,an' I hope it'll be all right; but I never is to forget what St. Paul(or it may be St. Second Timothy) says on that head."

  Old Jonas frowned heavily, and further betrayed his irritation by asmothered malediction that included the entire negro race. Randallwaited for no further outbreak; he melted, as it were, from the doorway,and disappeared as far as old Jonas was concerned, but Adelaide, who wassitting in a little bower she had made for herself, saw him standing bythe fence gazing into space. The child after awhile turned her attentionto play, but Randall held his ground for a long time, looking into thebright sky far beyond the bermuda hills for a proper solution of theproblem he had in his mind. But it was a problem that the windy spaceswith their blue perspective could not solve, and so, with a sigh, hebetook himself to the courthouse, where the man whose life he had nearlytaken was now holding forth as an officer of the law. The slave-driverhad become a belated Unionist, then a Republican, and was now a Radicalof the stripe and temper of poor Thaddeus Stevens, who was at that timethe centre and motor of Radical politics.

  Now, Mr. Tuttle was by no means asleep; he had watched and waited forthe return of Randall. He carried in his pocket book a warrant, dulymade out and officially signed, for the arrest of the negro. The chargewas assault with intent to murder. He saw Randall long before Randallsaw him, called the deputy sheriff, who had a room across the corridor,apprised him of the fact that a criminal was to be arrested, pulled fromhis pocket-book the wrong document, and the moment the negro entered thecourthouse he found himself in custody of the dread officer of the law.To say that he was frightened would be putting it rather mildy; he wasparalysed with sickening fear, which was only overcome by desperate rageagainst the white people, all and singular, who had caused him to walkinto such a trap.

  The park in which the courthouse stands was separated from the rest ofthe public square by a small, neat fence, over which, at the entrances,steps led, so that instead of opening a gate, you simply walked up thesteps, over the fence, and down on the other side. On top of the mostfrequented of these stiles or steps Mr. Sanders and Lawyer Tidwell weresitting. Lawyer Tidwell was on his way to the courthouse for the purposeof examining some legal documents relating to a case he had on thedocket, and Mr. Sanders had accompanied him as far as the enclosure.Their conversation grew so interesting that they finally seatedthemselves on the topmost step of the stile. They may have been talkingof something serious, or they may have been relating anecdotes; butwhatever the character of their conference, it was brought to a suddenconclusion by the appearance of the deputy sheriff with his humble andunresisting prisoner. The deputy had a fine and high opinion of thedignity of his position; he magnified his office. "Make way, gentlemen!"he cried, and stood waiting for Mr. Sanders and the lawyer to moverespectfully aside.

  Both men looked up, but it was left to Mr. Sanders to express thesurprise of each. "What in the confounded nation does this mean?" heexclaimed, rising to a standing position, and facing the officer andprisoner.

  The prisoner was ahead of the deputy with a reply: "It means lots mo' tome than what it do to anybody else, suh," Randall declared, drawing in adeep breath, as if, in that way, he could control his emotion. "Whar Icome frum they warned me ag'in' all white folks, bofe Republican an'Dimmycrat. They say, 'You go an' preach the straight gospel, an' let 'emalone when they talk anything else but the Saviour an' Him crucified;they tol' me that, an' now you see me! But for that little white childdown yander, I wouldn't be here now. But here I is, an' here I'll stay,an' I'll be nuther the fust nor the last that was flung to the lions.Look at Daniel, an' see what he done! Yes, suh! I'm right here!"

  "Well, now, you jest hold up your head an' put your hat on sideways efyou want to," remarked Mr. Sanders. "Gus!" he said, turning to thelawyer, with something like a frown on his bland countenance, "here's awhole bunch of business that's fell right in our laps. An' it's all inyour line, too; but ef you can't do nothin', why, then, I'll take up theloose ends an' see what I kin do wi' 'em. I'll tell you right now," hewent on, turning to the deputy sheriff, "when you take this nigger tojail, you'll take me, too--you or the man that's waitin' for your job.Make no mistake about that!"

  A number of negroes who had been talking together near the courthousedrew nearer when they saw one of their colour held prisoner. One of themwas the negro member of the Legislature, and he was curious to know whatthe trouble was--curious and sympathetic, too, for he somehow felt thatas the representative of the race in the county, he was responsible forthe welfare of each individual. When Lawyer Tidwell thought that thenegroes were near enough to hear everything that was said, he rose fromhis seat on the stile, and impressively shook his leonine mane. "What doyou propose to do with this boy?" he inquired.

  "I'm taking him to jail," the deputy replied, with a little relapse fromdignity due to the unwonted aspect of Mr. Tidwell and Mr. Sanders. Thelawyer demanded by what authority he had arrested the negro, and askedto see the warrant. By this time a considerable crowd of coloured peoplehad gathered around, and when the warrant was produced, Mr. Tidwellcreated a considerable sensation by the tone of indignation he assumedand by the dramatic gestures with which he denounced such proceedings.

  "Do you call this a warrant?" he cried, striking the document with theback of his hand. Then with threatening forefinger, held under thedeputy's nose, he went on: "Do you mean to tell me, sir, that you arrestpeople, and run them into jail with such scraps of paper as this is?Deprive them of their rights under the constitution without giving thema chance to be heard at a preliminary trial?" Lawyer Tidwell's voicegrew higher, and his indignation seemed to rise higher, as hecontemplated the rampant injustice of the period, of which thisproceeding was a very small part. "Mark my words!" he exclaimed; "you'llgo to jail before this boy does! You know just as well as I do that thisis no warrant. You know it isn't properly made out, nor even properlysigned. I tell you again, the man that issued it will be impeached, andthe man that served it will occupy the same cell. You'll know a thing ortwo worth remembering when I get through with you!" The lawyer's wholeattitude was menacing, and it made precisely the impression he hadintended it should. He turned to Randall. "What party do you vote with?"

  "Wid the party of Aberham Lincoln, suh; an' if you want to know why,turn to St. Paul (or it may be St. Second Timothy--one or the other) an'you'll see where the brotherin is begged an' commanded for to stand byone another in all manner of trial an' t
ribulation. In them days, suh,they grit one another wi' a holy kiss; but in these times--la! holykissin' is done played out like a hoss that went through the war!"

  At this point the negro legislator, in order to keep up his reputationfor representing his race, spoke up. "Frien', what has you been doin',an' what has you been tuck up fer? It look like ter me that you has gota case fer ter fetch up in the gener'l insembly, an' ef you is, I wantter have the handlin' un it."

  It was Mr. Tidwell who replied. "Don't you remember that old Tuttle wasan overseer before the war? He had no niggers of his own, and he tookhis spite out on other people's niggers. One day, when he was kickingand cuffing this boy here, he hit him one lick too many. Randall turnedon him, and came pretty near knocking him into the middle of next week.You-all have put old Tuttle in a place where he has a little power, andnow, after all these years, he wants to slap Randall in jail, when heknows just as well as you know that he hit the boy a hundred times asmany licks as the boy hit him. And he sha'n't put him in jail! One ofyou boys run to Mr. Whipple's and tell him that Mr. Sanders wants to seehim at the courthouse at once. Tell him that Randall is in trouble."

  Not only one negro, but half a dozen negroes, went on a run to carry themessage to old Jonas.

  "Ten to one he doesn't come," remarked Mr. Tidwell to his companion inan undertone.

  Mr. Sanders himself had a very small supply of undertones, and so hespoke right out when he replied to the lawyer--"Ef he don't come I'll goarter him, an' ef I have to do that, I'll paint him red before he gitshere! I promise you you won't know him!"

  But old Jonas came fast enough; moreover, he came smiling, and this,together with the fact that he forgot to remove his skull-cap when heput on his hat gave him something of a new aspect in the eyes even ofthose who had known him long. The rapidity with which he walked was notso remarkable, considering the fact that Adelaide was running a littleahead of him. The child dropped his hand when she saw Mr. Sanders andthe rest, and ran to them as hard as she could. "Bishop!" she cried toMr. Sanders, "the Boogerman is to come right home this minute. I'vefound a new gun, and I want to shoot him! Boogerman, please come on!"All that Randall could say was, "Well, suh!" and then he passed his handacross his eyes, and gazed off into the far-distance, seeing whatsoevervisions the Almighty vouchsafes to the meek and lowly, who are troubledin heart and mind. He must have seen something, and that something musthave been sufficient, for his face brightened, and when he turned hishead, and saw that all were looking at him with curiosity, he laughedpleasantly, and, stooping down, lifted Adelaide in his arms, and heldher there, as though she would afford him the protection which hethought he needed.

  "Which a-way does you-all want me for to go?" he inquired. "Show me, an'I'll go right straight to the place. In Galatians, Paul bragged that heoutfaced Peter, an' ef he done that, I speck I kin face what's a comin'to me."

  "I'll put your hat on the side of your head, Boogerman, so you can lookas bold as a goose," said Adelaide.

  "Yes, ma'am, I kin do that an' not half try; an' ef I can't look like agoose, I bet you I can look as sheepish as the next one." He was noteven apprehensive and those who were observing him closely wondered atthe sudden change that had come over him. "Jail," he went on, in thetone of an exhorter--"jail was good 'nough for the 'postles, an' why notfor me? They ain't got no law long 'nough, ner no jail strong 'nough forto prevent pra'r."

  "Oh, shucks, Boogerman!" exclaimed Adelaide; "let's go to jail. I wantto see what kind of a place it is on the inside, because I may have tosend Cally-Lou there if she doesn't behaviour better than she has beendoing."

  "Well, ef you're a-gwine to send Cally-Lou to that hotel," Mr. Sandersremarked, "jest tell 'em for to gi' me a big room wi' a long bed in it."Then they all went in the courthouse, and sought out the judge of theSuperior Court circuit, who had his office in the building. After LawyerTidwell's explanation, he very readily consented to hold the commitmenttrial then and there. Mr. Tidwell briefly called attention to the natureof the warrant that had been served, and announced his intention ofbringing the impeachment proceedings against Mr. Tuttle, who was judgeof the Court of Ordinary. The Superior Court judge said he had no doubtthat such proceedings would hold, when brought at the proper time, andin the proper way, but they had nothing to do with the case before him.Whatever the nature of the warrant, the accused was now in charge of anofficer of the law, and it would simplify matters to have thepreliminary trial take place at once. Randall gave his version of theaffair, and when Mr. Tuttle was called to testify, it was found that thetestimony he gave was not materially different from that which the negrohad given, much of it being brought out by the close questioning of Mr.Tidwell. The result was that Randall was placed under bond for hisappearance at the next term of the superior court to be held in thatcounty. Much to the surprise of all, old Jonas Whipple, instead ofmaking a bond for Randall, gave his check on the local bank, with theunderstanding that it was to be cashed in favour of the court. The judgesaid that a bond of that kind was something unusual, but he accepted it.

  Randall looked hard at old Jonas, and his lip trembled as if he wereabout to say something, but, instead, his glance turned to the floor,and he stood fumbling his hat. Mr. Sanders, observing the negro'sembarrassment, told a funny story, and when the laughter to which itgave rise had subsided the judge asked the Sage of Shady Dale if hewanted the anecdote to be made a part of the record in the case. Thecountenance of Mr. Sanders took on a peculiarly solemn expression.

  "Well, judge," he replied, "it'd be a mighty good way for to improve itsome."

  "Mr. Sanders went from the courthouse with a sweepingstride"]

  All these things were beyond Adelaide. She climbed on a chair, and fromthe chair to a table, and stood poised at that dizzy height with hereyes fixed on Mr. Sanders. "Come on, Bishop," she commanded, "and let'sgo home." He backed up to the table like a trained horse in the modernpony shows. When he came close enough Adelaide leaped on his back. Hereshe perched herself, while Mr. Sanders went from the courthouse with asweeping stride, which, when he was out of doors, changed, first into atrot, and then into a pretended canter.