"Mister Jodie, regardless of what happened Sunday night, or what was said yesterday, or who killed this squirrel y'all been talking about, I'll have to ask you to come back to town with me for questioning. We've got to get to the bottom of this!" I looked up at Mister Wes. His face had turned red, and he was breathing loud as a horse. I looked back at Papa. His face had gone white, and he was hardly breathing a-tall! He reached to jerk his hat off its hook. "Come on, Sheriff! Let's go! I'm just as anxious as anybody to get this tangle straight! Once and for all!" As Papa started toward the door, he stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out his keys. He handed them to Uncle Dan. "Dan, I'll have to get you to lock up for me." "Sure, Jodie, if you say so." "Papa, you going to town?" "That's right, sugar." "But you gotta see all my shells first!" I grabbed my best shell and ran to Papa. "Stray did give me his newest one, Papa! The one outta Mister Hawk's gun when he was shooting Mister Ward. It still smells good, too! See?" I held the shell up for Papa to smell. He wouldn't take it. He just stood there looking down at me. "Smell of it, Papa! Stray saw Mister Hawk drop it and—" Papa grabbed me up and whirled around to face Mister Hawk. "What do you think now, Mister Hawk? You still say little young'uns tell the truth?" Mister Hawk began to laugh. But it didn't sound like real laughing. He kicked open the door of the heater with one foot and spit his wad of tobacco into the fire. Then, he could laugh better. But he still sounded strange, like a frog that couldn't croak. Or sort of like a rooster choking instead of crowing. "Yeah. They do, Jodie. I'm seventy-odd years old, and I never know'd a little young'un to lie. I killed Ward Lawson. I did! I killed him!" Mister Hawk reached over and patted my knee. "This baby's tellin' the gospel truth! I didn't figger nobody seen me do it, but I reckon that humpbacked little darkie seen me, all right." "Mister Hawk, do you realize what you're saying?" "Jodie, 'course I realize what I'm sayin'! I shot Ward late Sunday evenin'! Had to. The fool, he scared my poor mule outta her wits with that damn automobile of his'n! She ain't et a good meal since he bought the devilish thing!" "Mister Hawk, you say—" "Sheriff, I'd do it again!" "Step out here on the porch with me, Mister Hawk. I'll have to take you—" "Sheriff, I don't mind tellin' you where I done it. I shot the son-of-a-gun out in the middle of his cornfield! He was tryin' to kill Ned, hisself. I put a stop to that! Then I went straight and told Nellie. I said, 'Nellie, I done it for you.' I said, 'Now the road's all your'n. That damn Ward Lawson and his automobile ain't gonna run you in the ditch no more!'" The sheriff looked at Papa, at Mister Wes, and then at Doctor Elton. All three shook their heads. The other men, too. Grandpa Thad just kept on shaking his head, and he went over to stand by Mister Hawk.