“Yes, suh; en when I been home long time en git scare, den I look en see de boat gone.” “You don't think that your mistress got in the boat and drifted away by accident?” “No, suh, nebber, suh; Miss Nellie 'fraid de water lessen Mass Johnnie is wid um.” “Is Abram a good boy?” “I dun'no', suh; I dun'no' nuffin 'tall 'bout Abram, suh; Abram is strange nigger to we.” “Did he take his things out of his room?” “Abram t'ings? Ki! Abram ent hab nuttin' ceppen what Miss Nellie en Mass Johnnie gi' um. No, suh, dat nigger ent hab nuttin' but de close on 'e back when 'e come to we.” The sheriff paused a moment. “I think, Mr. Morris,” he said at last, “that we'd better separate. You, with Mr. Mitchell and Mr. Rountree, had better take your boat and hunt in the swamp and marsh, and along the river-bank. Let Mr. Wilson, his brothers, and Green take your dog and search in the pine-barren. I'll take my men and my dogs and cross the railroad. The signal of any discovery will be three shots fired in quick succession. The gathering-place'll be this house, where a member of the discovering party'll meet the other parties and bring 'em to the discovery. And I beg that you'll refrain from violence, at least until we can reach each other. We've no proof of anything--” “Damn proof!” “An' our only clew,” the sheriff went on, “the missing boat, points to Mrs. Morris's safety.” A little consultation ensued; then agreeing to the sheriff's distribution of forces, they left the house. The sheriff's dogs--the lean, small hounds used on such occasions--were tied, and he held the ropes. There was an anxious look on his face, and he kept his dogs near the house until the party for the barren had mounted and ridden away, and the party in the boat had pushed off into the blackness of the swamp, a torch fastened at the prow casting weird, uncertain shadows. Then ordering his six men to mount and to lead his horse, he went to the room of the negro Abram and got an old shirt. The two lean little dogs were restless, but they made no sound as he led them across the railway. Once on the other side, he let them smell the shirt, and loosed them, and was about to mount, when, in the flash of a torch, he saw something in the grass. “A hatchet!” he said to his companions, picking it up; “and clean, thank God!” The men looked at each other, then one said, slowly, “He coulder drowned her?” The sheriff did not answer, but followed the dogs that had trotted away with their noses to the ground. “I'm sure the nigger came this way,” the sheriff said, after a while. “Those others may find the poor young lady, but I feel sure of the nigger.” One of the men stopped short. “That nigger's got to die,” he said. “Of course,” the sheriff answered, “but not by Judge Lynch's court. This circuit's got a judge that'll hang him lawfully.”