Skeeter had made no attempt to see Hitch Diamond, and had not talked about him to any of the white people. He knew it was not wise to show too much interest in the case of a negro criminal. He did not care to get himself under suspicion. All of Hitch’s friends felt the same way, and since their first dramatic display of emotion as Hitch was led captive before the Shoofly Church, they had assumed an attitude of indifference toward Hitch and his pitiable plight. It was the Sunday following Hitch’s return to Tickfall when Skeeter determined to interview Sheriff John Flournoy. Skeeter timed his call with the sheriff’s custom of sitting on a little side porch of his home and smoking an after-dinner cigar. Skeeter fumbled for a few minutes with his hat, considering how to begin what he had to say. Then he asked: “Marse John, whut is de white folks gwine do wid Hitch Diamond?” “Hang him!” Flournoy said bluntly, merely for the purpose of seeing what Skeeter would say next. The colored man said nothing for five minutes. He sank down weakly upon the bottom step of the porch, his shoulders pathetically hunched, and his head resting upon his hands. At last he mumbled: “Marse John, I don’t b’lieve Hitch kilt anybody. He never done it.” “Have you any proof of his innocence, Skeeter?” Flournoy asked. “Naw, suh.” “It’s hard for me to believe, Skeeter,” Flournoy continued quietly. “Hitch Diamond was born on my plantation, and ever since I have known him he has been a big, good-natured, bone-headed, peaceable, law-abiding negro. Robbery and murder are not in his line.” “Dat’s right, Marse John--Hitch never done it.” There was a little silence, after which Flournoy said: “I think they’ve got Hitch, Skeeter. Some of the white people in this town have always been very fond of Hitch. They ought to come to his aid at once--he’s their nigger. But all the white folks have kept away.” “Dat’s a bad sign, Marse John,” Skeeter agreed mournfully. “Yes. It means that Hitch is up against it.” “Whut proofs is dey got, Marse John?” Skeeter asked. Replying, Flournoy spoke slowly and painfully, as if the narration was repugnant to him: “Hitch Diamond got off the train at Sawtown about three o’clock on Monday afternoon. A grocer saw him dressed in a stove-pipe hat, a Prince Albert coat, and a yellow waistcoat. A little later he was seen by two small white boys without his hat, coat, or vest, sitting on the wharf-boat. A watchman on the wharf-boat says that Hitch attempted to run when he came near, and in the effort to arrest Hitch his shirt was torn off his back. Dainty Blackum says that Hitch came to her home, barefooted, bareheaded, with no outer shirt, but wearing a red undershirt. “Hitch Diamond and Dude Blackum had a drink together, and then both men left Blackum’s cabin about dark and went toward the sawmill. Five hours later the commissary store was robbed and the watchman was killed.