There was a slight movement in the crowd in the rear of the court-room, and Skeeter came forward and pushed open the little gate in the low railing, which, like a river levee, held back an overflow of black people. He had moved slowly through the crowd, proud of being called as a witness, ostentatiously speaking to every colored person he knew, and bowing with fine courtesy to every white face. Respectably dressed, and extremely respectful in his manner, Skeeter came to the witness stand with the air of a man who knew exactly how to act in the company of white folks. The jurors straightened up in their seats, looking at Skeeter with interest, wondering what light he could bring to brighten the black cloud which hung over the defendant. Skeeter noted the movement and bowed. “Mawnin’, gen’lemens!” he murmured. At the admonition of the judge, Skeeter held up his right hand, a clerk rattled off a string of words which Skeeter could not understand, and Skeeter dropped his hand. “Thank ’e, suh!” he said. Then, for the first time during the trial, Hitch Diamond came to life. He rose to his feet, picked up the heavy table against which he had been leaning, and set it entirely out of his way by placing it so close to the witness stand that Skeeter Butts could have reached out his foot from the chair and stepped on it. A heavy iron cuspidor stood in the middle of the space which Hitch was clearing for himself, so he set it out of his way. After that he moved two heavy chairs. Suddenly Sheriff John Flournoy woke up! It looked to him like Hitch Diamond had cleared a space for himself clear across the court-room in front of the judge to the open window where Pap Curtain, Hitch’s father-in-law, was sitting. He noticed that Pap Curtain had slipped off the window ledge and was standing with his back to the window, one hand stretched out on either side. Hitch was getting ready to run! As quietly as possible, Sheriff Flournoy slipped across the platform behind the judge’s seat and stationed himself near the window where Pap Curtain stood. Pap smiled and nodded knowingly. “Dat’s right, Marse John,” he grinned, as he waved his hand toward Hitch Diamond. “Git a good ready! Dat Tickfall Tiger is gwine scratch somebody’s back!” Having completed his preparations, Hitch Diamond turned to his star witness. “Whut am yo’ name, Skeeter Butts?” he bellowed. Skeeter got mad and began to swell up. “You done called me by my name!” he snapped. “Tell de white folks whut is yo’ name, Skeeter!” Hitch growled. “Mebbe dey is seed yo’ favor but disremember de name of yo’ face!” “Skeeter Butts!” the witness replied grumpily. “Does you know who kilt dat night-watchman down at Sawtown?” Hitch asked. “Suttinly.” “Was you dar when it happened?” Hitch inquired. “Naw, suh.” “Was it me whut done it?” Hitch bellowed. “Naw, suh,” Skeeter answered positively. “Who done it?” Hitch Diamond howled.