“I know when you will be, shore enough, if you don't mark my words.” Hoag was now employing his favorite browbeating method, and his eyes flashed threateningly. “You have been shootin' off your mouth to outsiders. You are like a scared old hag with fits. I heard that hobgoblin tale you told about seein' the ghost o' Pete Watson. The tale's goin' the rounds, gittin' bigger an' bigger, like a cake o' beeswax that everybody adds a chunk to, an' thar wasn't a thing in it but your fool jim-jams.” “I know what I _know!_” Trawley said, a shadow of superstition in his eyes. “I was in my right senses--I was seein' as plain as I am now. The fust time he appeared I was wide awake, settin' up in a chair in the kitchen. The next time I was in my corn-crib a little after dark. Pete put his hand to his neck; I heard 'im groan an' gurgle. He comes to my bed sometimes when I'm asleepin' an' pulls the covers off an' then darts right through the wall. The last time he told me that me nor none o' the klan would ever have peace--that black folks was the same as white whar he was at, an' that accordin' to the book o' judgment to kill the innocent was the unpardonable sin alluded to in Scripture.” “Poof, Sid, you are gone clean daffy!” Hoag sneered, though a serious expression had captured his features, for he was wondering how far this indiscreet babbler could be trusted to recount such imaginings. “He got _you_ in it all right,” Trawley said, vindictively. “I ain't the only one. The last time he come to me I was drivin' the cow home from the pasture after dark. At fust I thought it was a calf or a stray hog; but he come on till he was close by my side, limpin' along like he used to do, with his old flipflap feet. He talked as plain as ever he did in this life. He said I was to die a slow death an' a terrible one--that my folks would think I was dead an' put me in the ground, but that I'd lie thar an' wait till him an' some more come an' twisted my sperit out an' tuck it on to torment. Then he fetched you in.” “Me?” Hoag sniffed. “Well, I'm glad he hain't forgot me. I hope he remembers the time I lambasted 'im for breakin' that new plow o' mine.”