“Hello, Dinner!” Hitch exclaimed. Dinner’s black, beadlike eyes glowed unwinkingly. “I thought they kilt you in de river, Revun,” he muttered in his soft, easy voice. “Naw, suh, dey wusn’t atter me,” Hitch said with difficulty, feeling a great weakness and nausea come over him. “Dey kotch Dude Blackum an’ Dude escaped away. He sunk while he was swimmin’ in de river.” “Did de mob tear all yo’ clothes off?” Dinner Gaze asked. “Naw, suh; I had bad luck an’ loss all my clothes befo’ dat happened. Dat’s how come I got to trabbel at night.” “Is you hongry?” Gaze asked. “Ain’t had nothin’ fer two days, an’ dis is de beginnin’ of de nex’ day,” Hitch told him. Dinner Gaze picked up a small handsatchel which he had set down at his feet and prepared to leave. “I’s sorry you didn’t git here in time fer breakfast, Revun,” he said. “Ef you’ll stay right here I’ll go git you some ole clothes an’ a little vittles. I kin beg ’em from some white folks’s house.” “I’s mighty nigh dead wid bein’ so hongry, Dinner,” Hitch pleaded. “Ef you’ll he’p me outen dis scrape I’ll shore love you ferever.” “Don’t be oneasy,” Dinner grinned. “I’ll he’p you as much as I kin.” Dinner may have intended to aid Hitch, but that portion of Tickfall Parish was scantily inhabited. He walked several miles before he came to a human habitation, and there he was refused both food and clothes. Furthermore, Hitch had said enough to cause any man to suspect that he was implicated in the Sawtown murder, and negroes are afraid to render aid and comfort to criminals, even of their own race. Hitch waited for several hours, and finally fell asleep, dreaming of all the things he had ever seen or heard of that were good to eat. He awoke at nightfall, famished. Dinner Gaze had not returned. “Dat nigger lied to me!” Hitch exclaimed desperately. “Ef I had him here I’d kill him wid my bare hands. Ef I ever git de chance to even up, I’ll do it ef I die!” Cursing his misfortunes, he arose and stumbled weakly forward. Two days later Hitch Diamond stumbled up the steps of the little cabin at the Gaitskill hog-camp, seven miles from Tickfall. He fell unconscious at the feet of old Isaiah Gaitskill, the negro overseer. “My Lawd!” Isaiah exclaimed, clawing at his white wool. “Wharever Hitch has been at, he comed away so fast dat he runned out of all his clothes!” VIII THE HOODOO GIRL. It was Sunday morning in Tickfall. A crowd of men were standing in front of the Shoofly Church, idly waiting and chewing tobacco. A row of men sat like buzzards upon the top of the rickety fence, also chewing tobacco. Half a dozen saddle-horses stood hitched to the trees and two-score dilapidated buggies stood in a row with their horses hitched to the fence. Now and then some young negro girl wandered aimlessly toward one of these buggies, then hastened her footsteps as if she had just remembered leaving something under the seat.