"Well, then, you quit imagining things—or telling stories. It's mean to tell stories, and a sin, besides. You don't want the Old Bad Man to get you when you die, do you?" "No'm!" Mama had told me a long time before who the Bad Man was. When Brother Milligan preached about him, he called him "that Old Split-Foot Devil." But Mama said "devil" is an ugly word for ladies to use, so she always said "the Bad Man." No matter what his name, I didn't want him to get me and burn me up, so I quit talking about Mister Ward. Soon we came to the main road, where we turned into what Mama said was the left fork. She told me if we were to go the other way, and kept on riding eight or ten miles, we'd wind up down in Louisiana. I never had been to Louisiana. A few minutes later we met Old Mister Hawk in his narrow wagon. Mama said he was the only man for miles who had a one-horse wagon. He didn't have a horse, though, just a mule. Mister Hawk made his old, bony, gray mule go over in the weeds and grass so there would be lots of room in the road for our buggy. When he said "'Evenin', Miss Nannie," he took one hand and lifted his hat clean off his head. Next, we came to the Baileys' house. Miss Lida Belle was sitting on the front porch, and she waved and called out for Mama to stop. Mama drew up the reins, slowing Dale to a walk. "'Evening, Lida Belle." "Lord, Nannie, here I sit barefooted as a yard dog! You caught me resting my feet! Tie up your horse and come on in!" Miss Lida Belle took her snuff brush out of her mouth and started putting on her shoes. 'Td love to, Lida Belle, but it's getting on over in the evening. I'll have to come another day." "Do that, Nannie! I'd sure be proud." "I will. And y'all come!" "We will!" Mama flapped the reins ever so lightly against Old Dale's back. He trotted on. "Mama, where's Addie Mae at?" "I don't know, hon." "Is Mister Ward gonna run after her like our rooster chases hens?" "Bandershanks!" "But Miss Dink said—" "I declare to my soul! You hear too much. Now quit asking questions." Mama didn't talk any more for a long while. "Mama, Miss Ophelia said I don't know what's going on." "What?" "But Mr. Ward said I'd tell Papa." "Bandershanks, I don't know what in Heaven's name you could be worrying about! When did you ever hear Mister Ward or Miss Ophelia talking about Papa, or anything else for that matter?" "At the spring." "This evening?" "Yes'm." "What'd they say?" "I don't know." "Well, surely you remember something—if you heard them. Just tell me one thing they said." "She was crying and crying. And he said, 'Shut up.' And she said, 'Don't do it.' And he said he's gonna get lots of money and buy him a au-something." "A automobile?" "That's it! And he saw me squatting down by the spring dipping up water, and he said he'd kill me." "Good Heavens!" "Miss Ophelia said I wouldn't tell!" "I declare to my soul! Tell what?" "I don't know, Mama!"