"Now, Cap'n--you know I never stole dem stags--dthat old jestice he jes' sentenced me 'cause you was my counsel an' cause' I was a nigger an' he had'n had a chance at me befo'--I bet if I'd give' him half de money 'sted o' payin' you, he'd a' let me off mighty quick." "Pay me! you never paid me a cent in your life." "Well, I promised to pay you, didn' I? An' ain't dthat de same thin'?" "Not by a big sight----" "Dthat's de way gent'mens does." "Oh! do they?" Jeams came back to the main theme. "Mr. Hen, ain' you gwine let me have dem ten dollars, sho' 'nough? Hit's jes' like pickin' money up in de road: Dix kin kill dat dawg befo' you ken say Jack Roberson." "Jeams," I said, "look at me!" "Yes, suh, I'm lookin'," and he was. "I am going away to-night----" "Well, I'm gwine width you, I ain' gwine stay heah by myself after you and Dix is gone." "No, you can't do that. I don't know yet exactly where I am going, I have not yet decided. I am going West--to a big city." "Dthat's where I want to go--" interrupted Jeams. "And when I get settled I'll send for Dix--I'm going to leave him with you." "Yes, suh, I'll teck keer of him sure. I'll match him against any dawg in dthis town--he can kill dthat dawg of dthat yaller nigger's----" "No, if you put him in a fight, I'll kill you the first time I see you--d'you hear?" "Yes, suh--I ain' gwine put him in no fight. But ef he gits in a fight--you know he's a mighty high-spirited dawg--he don' like dawgs to come nosin' roun' him. Hit sort o' aggrivates him. An' ef he should----?" "I'll whip you as sure as you live----" "Jes' ef he should?" "Yes--if you let him." "No, suh, I ain' gwine let him. You lef him wid me." And though I knew that he was lying, I was content to leave the dog with him; for I was obliged to leave him with someone, and I knew he loved this dog and hoped my threat would, at least, keep him from anything that might hurt him. I drifted out to the Club later and casually dropped the information that I was going away. I do not think it made much impression on my friends there--in fact, I hardly think they took the information seriously. They were a kindly lot, but took life and me lightly. When I left town at midnight, the rain was pouring down and there was no one at the dreary station to see me off but Jeams and Dix, and as the train pulled out I stood on the platform to say good-by to Jeams, who was waving his right hand sadly, while with the other he gripped the collar of the dejected Dix who, with his eyes on me, struggled spasmodically and viciously.