"And any one of several persons, who did or didn't know what all had happened, might've slipped the squirrel into Ward's pocket to cover suspicious-looking circumstances. It might've even been that Hicks fellow who was in on the whiskey-making. Remember, he was over there early this morning." "Jodie, it's bound to have been Wes Bailey." "Well, maybe. Ward ruined Addle Mae. But, Nannie, had you thought of this: Wes couldn't afford to kill Ward. If he did, folks would ask why, and that would bring up Addie Mae's name. So Wes didn't dare." "You guess then it was Ned?" "I wouldn't think it of Ned. But Ward must've thought Ned had told the Law about the still. You remember Ophelia said that Ward was going to 'get him a coon'? The _coon_ was Ned!" "Jodie, oughtn't we to tell somebody about—" "Nannie, for the time being, I aim to put the whole mess outta my mind. Sometimes, what happens is best left to the Good Lord. He can handle justice for all kinds of creatures: black coons, red squirrels, white men, black men—any kind, any color. Your pa used to preach that." "Yeah. Pa got it outta the Bible. It says He takes note when a sparrow falls." Chapter 12 "Bandershanks, wake up! Wake up, hon!" I could feel Mama shaking my arm. "Time to get up!" "I'm sleepy." "I know. But you have to get up early this morning. You're going to the store with Papa." "He needs me?" "Well, yes—in a way. See, I've gotta go back over to Miss Ophelia's to help Aunt Vic get all those young'uns' clothes ready for the funeral." "Where's Papa at?" "He went on out to saddle Jake. Now, soon as you eat your biscuits, hunt up that old mail-order catalogue I let you and Mierd have. You can cut out paper dolls this morning while you're up at the store." "When you gonna come get me?" "I ought'a be back before dinner." I played paper dolls a long time. Papa let me spread them out on the floor, right under the candy counter. Along about the middle of the morning, he even said they could have some lemon drops. But none of my dolls liked lemon drops. I had to eat them. I'd just swallowed the last bite when Wiley came running over from the schoolhouse. He had to have a brand new writing tablet. He wanted one with slick paper, but Papa said regular ones were plenty good for penmanship practice. I asked Wiley what was penmanship, but he just told me I sure was stupid. I didn't care. I got Wiley to start bending some pasteboard strips into chairs and beds for my dolls. He didn't much want to make them—wouldn't till I begged and begged and said "please, please, please" so many times he couldn't stand it any more! "Wiley, son, you'd better hurry on back across the branch. It's time for the taking-in bell to ring. Surprises me Mister Shepherd let you come over here during recess." "Just a minute, Papa, soon as I fix Bandershanks one more chair."