But they couldn’t fool her. She knew who it was; and wasn’t afraid to tell, either.... It wasn’t nobody but the same sly nigger that lived next-door to her the time Peesah died so sudden.... Couldn’t be nobody else.... That’s why he moved away from next door.... To keep people from knowing anything about the needle.... But Gawd don’t sleep. And everything got to come out when God command you to speak your mind.... And Peesah had come to her in her sleep three times already. And she saw the needle in his hand plain as day. And he called out to her so loud, her sleep was broke for the rest of the night.... “She say she hyeah’d Unc’ Peesah call to ’uh: “Tempe, take dis needle back! Put it in de place whah de needle b’lonks. Lissen w’at I tell you, an’ do w’at I say!” “An’ dah whah she say she seen de needle in ’uh own han’; but Unc’ Peesah was gone clean out o’ sight.” Chester looked about the room uneasily; and got up and closed the front door. Lizzie watched him, waiting for him to speak. He went over to the cot and sat down, looking at her questioningly. “You think Tempe seen Peesah sperret sho’ ’nuff?” He asked her. “Da’s de very thing I wan’ know myself,” she answered. “But ain’t you say Tempe min’ comes an’ goes?... Maybe ’tain’ nothin’ but Tempe ’maginashun make ’uh think she seen Unc’ Peesah sperret.” “But ain’ she say she had de needle in ’uh own han’ aft’ he done lef’?” Chester reminded her. “Da’s w’at she say,” Lizzie answered. “An’ if you wan’ b’lieve ’uh, it sho look like de needle p’intin’ to’ads you bein’ de lawful owner; Tempe nex’-do’ neighbor, de time Unc’ Peesah died. Don’t it?” He couldn’t deny that Tempe had come to him for the needle and that he had given it to her. Lizzie knew that he had always been an obliging neighbor to Tempe, lending her anything she needed if he happened to have it. The evening Uncle Peesah “took down wid de colic,” Tempe ran over to Chester to borrow a needle and thread to “sew up a salt-sack full o’ hot bran, to lay on Peesah stummick to ease de mizry.” Chester gave her the needle and thread and she went home with it. Late that night Uncle Peesah died; and Tempe told every one that his death was caused from eating cucumber salad and buttermilk. It was a reasonable excuse, and as nobody bothered about making any sort of examination to ascertain the real cause, Tempe felt perfectly secure. But Chester had his doubts. Tempe had long confided her troubles to him, and he knew how Peesah’s unfaithfulness had aroused her jealousy on numerous occasions; and how she had threatened to wreak vengeance, and “git even wid ’im for runnin’ wid yuther wimmins.” Therefore it was natural for Chester to suspect her of using the borrowed needle for a secret instrument of fatal despatch. “But who you think goin’ pay any ’tenshun to Tempe ramblin’ talk ’bout who de needle b’lonks to?” Chester asked, after thoughtful consideration. “Nobody ain’ goin’ know w’at she mean.”