“I shall nevah blacken the memory of Majah Speed by using his name with the story of the blowing open of the safe in my book. I shall use anotheh name, suh, and his secret shall be fo’evah safe and his memory will be unta’nished, fo’ the Majah nevah stole a dollah. He can stand befoah that greateh cou’t, wheah he has now gone, with a guiltless and stainless soul.” I was much interested in the Colonel’s narrative, and after talking over some of the details, we retired for the night. I had quietly enjoyed the naive reasoning, and the chivalrous devotion of the Colonel to his war time friend. There was pathos in the tale of sacrifice, and, several times I saw moisture in the old soldier’s eyes, as he dilated upon the cruelty of his position in the affair of the safe. His conceptions of right and wrong were refreshing, and his penchant for taking the law into his own hands was evidently going to get him into more predicaments, but it was useless to argue with him. I felt sorry about Posey’s coming castigation, but as Tip was abundantly able to take care of himself, I concluded not to worry over it. On our way down the river the next morning, the Colonel reverted to Major Speed’s ill-starred visit. “I presume that you would think, suh, that the interests of the living ah paramount to those of the dead, and that I ought to tell Majah Speed’s story to the world. His memory and the memory of that black heahted vahlet, Milt Tuttle, would suffeh, and Tuttle’s ought to suffeh, but my vindication would be complete. Natu’ally I do not enjoy being looked at askance, and I sometimes think that I ought to remove the stigma that now rests on my name.” I advised him to let matters remain as they were, inasmuch as he could produce no proof of the facts, and little would be gained by stirring up the affair. “But I do not need proof of facts, they would have my wo’d of honah, suh!” I explained the uncertain value of a “wo’d of honah” in that part of the country. I refrained from telling him that I thought his reputation would not be much improved by his explanation, for he would at least still be regarded as an “accessory after the fact” because of his admission of the protection to Speed. “By the way, Colonel,” I asked, in order to change the subject, “what did you finally do about Pud Calkins?” “Pud Calkins? I killed him, suh, at Vicksbu’g. That cuss disappeahed entiahly f’om from memoahs while I was in jail, and I assuah you, suh, that I heaved a sigh of relief when that man fell. I can now go ahead with my combination novel and memoahs without his bobbing up and down in the plot every time I sit down to write.” It occurred to me that the casualties among those whom the fates whirled into the Colonel’s orbit were becoming rather numerous.