“It’s not fair, Nick, goddam it! You go to all the trouble of killing the son-of-a-bitch, and this bastard brings him back!”

I slapped her across the mouth. She whirled and came at me, hands clawed. I grabbed her by the hair, lifted her off the ground, and gave her a criss-cross slap, backwards and forwards.

“You get the idea?” I said, letting her back down on her feet. “Now, you shut up and get back to the house or I’ll give you the worst beating you ever had in your life.”

Her hand went slowly to her face. She looked down at herself, seeming to realize for the first time that she was naked. Shivering, she tried to cover up with her hands, shooting a scared look at Uncle John.

“N-Nick. What—what’ll we—”

“Go on, do what I told you to.” I gave her a push toward the house. “Me an’ Uncle John will handle this.”

“B-But—but why did he do it?”

“I got an idea about that, too,” I said. “You run along, now, and everything will be fine.”

She hesitated, then scampered back up the lane. I waited until I was sure she was really gone, and then I turned around to Uncle John.

I smiled at him, and he tried to smile back. But his teeth were chattering so bad that he couldn’t.

“Now, don’t be scared, Uncle John,” I told him. “You got nothin’ to fear from me. Ain’t I always treated you right, now, ain’t I? Ain’t I always done the very best I could by you?”

“Yes, yes, suh Mistah Nick,” he said eagerly, “an’ I done right by you, suh, ain’t I, Mistah Nick? Now, ain’t that the truth, suh? Ain’t I been a plumb good nigger for you?”

“Well, sir,” I said, “I reckon I could call you that, all right.”

“Yes, suh, Mistah Nick. Any of them bad niggers startin’ trouble, I always comes an’ tells you, suh. Any of ‘em steal a chicken or shoot crap or get drunk or all ‘em other things bad niggers do, I always comes right an’ reports it to you, now don’t I, suh?”

“Well, sir,” I said. “I reckon you’re right about that, too, and I ain’t forgettin’ it, Uncle John. But just what are you getting at anyways?”

He gulped and choked, swallowing a sob. “Mistah Nick, I won’t say nothin’ about—‘bout what happen tonight. Hones’, Mistah Nick, I won’t say nothin’ to no one. You just let me go an’—an’—”

“Why, sure I will,” I said. “Ain’t keeping you from leaving now, am I?”

“Y-You really means it, Mistah Nick? You really ain’t mad at me none? I c’n go home right now, an’ just keep my big ol’ mouth shut forevah an’ evah?”

I told him that of course he could leave. But I’d feel a lot better if he first told me how he happened to be here with Tom Hauck’s body.

“You don’t do that, I might be kind of suspicious of you. I might figure you’d done something bad and was trying to hide it.”