He pondered gloomily. “Setting back there on the kitchen steps I got to thinkin’ about the last time I was up here before old Ollie disappeared. I wonder if you remember what he said to me and Silas, setting right here on this porch.” “He said a lot of things, Joe.” “Do you remember him telling us he was getting so he hated to go to sleep at night in this house? Maybe he said he was afraid to go to sleep, but no matter. Do you remember?” “I remember the poor old thing saying he couldn’t go to sleep nights because he was afraid a mob would come up to the house and take Oliver October out and hang him for something he’d never done.” “I guess maybe that was it. And another thing. Didn’t he say he wouldn’t blame Oliver if he up and beat his brains out for letting that gypsy queen lift the veil and cause all this worry?” “What are you trying to get at, Joe Sikes?” “Oh—nothin’ particular. Only somehow I’ve got the queerest feelin’ that something’s going to happen, Serepty—and I—I just thought I’d warn you not to say anything about our talk that night, ’specially what he said about Oliver beatin’ his brains out.” “Good gracious, man! Why should I say anything—” “I mean,” began Mr. Sikes solemnly, “if—if you was called as a witness—in court. If you was put under oath and had to testify. That’s what I mean. I mean,” he repeated sternly, “that you and me and Silas never heard him say anything like that—then or any other time.” “What’s got into you, Joe? What do you mean by a trial in court and—” “I’m just giving you a few instructions, Serepty, in case anything _does_ happen. I’ve been a little worried over you, anyhow.” “Worried over me?” “Yes. You’re so darned good and conscientious, as the saying is, that I’ve worried myself sick over you. I mean about swearing to a lie. Of course Silas and I would swear to a thousand of ’em if necessary, but would you? That’s what’s worryin’ me. Would—” “I would swear to a million of them,” she cried, “if it would be any help to Oliver October.” “Birds of a feather,” said Mr. Sikes, rather proudly. An automobile, packed with men and running at a high rate of speed, flashed past the Baxter house and was almost instantly lost to sight around the bend. “They ought to be locked up,” cried Mrs. Grimes, scandalized. Mr. Sikes seized the opportunity to utter one withering word—and on his lips it had all the ferocity of a curse. “Prohibition!” he snarled, his voice cracking on the last syllable. Mrs. Grimes drew her shawl a little closer about her throat. “Seems to me it’s turning a lot colder, Joe,” she said. “Better go in the house, Serepty,” he advised quickly. “Come in and have a cup of coffee, Joe,” said she. “I guess I’d better go ’round the back way, Serepty, so’s not to disturb Ollie and the committee. Has he set the day for the wedding?” She came down from the porch and together they started for the rear of the house. “No, he ain’t,” said she. “I thought he had. He’d ought to.”