“Well,” says Mark Tidd, “what you f-f-fellers say if we all turn spirits and do quite a heap more ’n jest p-pull his ears? I’ll bet Jason hain’t so brash as he lets on with spirits kickin’ around. I’ll b-bet if he was to meet up with a crowd of ’em unexpected-like, he’d have a conniption fit and fall in the m-middle of it.” “We kin try him and see,” says I. “How’ll we work it?” “I’ll f-figger it out,” says Mark, “and to-night we’ll give Jason a t-treat.” “Treat him medium,” says Tallow. “Won’t be n-nothin’ medium about this,” says Mark. “It’ll be done brown.” “We’ll dress up in sheets,” says Binney. “We won’t, n-neither,” says Mark. “Sheets has gone out of style for ghosts. It’s what you can’t see but kin _feel_ and _hear_ that scares you m-most. Jest lemme alone awhile and I’ll git up a scheme for Jason.” Well, we let him alone, because there wasn’t anything else to do. When he was getting up a scheme it wasn’t any use to ask him questions or pester him. He never would tell you a word till he made up his mind to, and the more you bothered him the longer it would be before you found out. When he was good and ready you’d get to know. Mark told us to meet him right after supper, which we did. He had a fish-pole in his hand all covered with black, and a package in his other hand that he didn’t mention. “Thought we was goin’ after Jason,” says I. “Why didn’t you say you was goin’ bullhead-fishin’?” “The b-bullhead we’re after,” says he, “has got two laigs and he answers to the name of Barnes.” “All right,” says I, “but why the fish-pole?” “You’ll see,” says he. “Why’s it all wrapped in black?” “So’s he won’t see,” says Mark, and that is all we could get out of him. We mogged along slow, waiting for it to get real good and dark, and then we headed straight for Jason’s house. Mostly in the evening you could find him setting on a bench overlooking the river, having a enjoyable time smoking his pipe and swatting mosquitoes. He always sat there, because if he went down to the grocery with the other loafers somebody might borrow a pipeful of tobacco off of him, and it seemed like Jason just couldn’t bear to part with nothing for nothing. He was that close-fisted he made the barber spread a paper around his chair when he got a hair-cut, so he could save the hair that was cut off. Yes, sir. And once he took two plank to the mill to be planed, and fetched along a bag to carry home the shavings. Said they was too good kindling to waste.