The plain fact was that no one much gave a good god-dang about either one of ‘em. It was a plain case of good riddance to bad rubbish as far as Tom was concerned; and who cared about one colored fella more or less, unless it was some other colored folks, and who cared if they did care?

But I guess I’m getting ahead of myself a little . . .

I dropped the shotgun between Tom and Uncle John. Then, leaving John’s horse and wagon where they were, I plodded back across country to the Hauck farm.

It was pretty late by that time, or pretty early I should say. An hour or so short of dawn. I hitched up, without going to the house, and headed for town.

The livery stable door was open, the hostler snoring like a buzz saw up in the hayloft. A lantern stood burning in a tub of sand, casting a flickering light along the row of stalls. I put up the horse and buggy without hardly a sound, and the hostler went on snoring. And I went out into the dark again, the dark and the rain.

There wasn’t no one on the street, of course. Even without the rain, no one would have been out at that hour. I got to the courthouse, took off my boots and sneaked upstairs to bed.

The dry-warm felt awful good after them wet clothes, and I guess I was plumb wore out. Because I went to sleep right away, instead of tossing around fifteen, twenty minutes like I usually do.

Then, just about the time my head touched the pillow it seemed like, Myra started yelling and shaking me.

“Nick! Nick Corey, you get up from there! My goodness, do you want to sleep all night and all day, too?”

“Why not?” I mumbled, hanging on to the pillows. “Sounds like a danged good idea.”

“I said to ‘get up!’ It’s almost noon, and Rose is on the phone!”

I let her get me up, and I talked to Rose for a minute or two. I said I was sorry to hear that Tom wasn’t home yet, and I’d probably get out and take a look around for him, even if I wasn’t sure that the sun would stay out and it wouldn’t start raining again.

“I’ll prob’ly do it, Rose,” I said, “so don’t you worry none. I reckon I’ll prob’ly start lookin’ for him today, even if it does start raining again and I spoil my clothes like I did last night, not to mention catchin’ an awful cold. Or if I don’t get out today, I’ll sure do it tomorrow.”

I hung up the phone and turned around.

Myra was frowning at me, tight-mouthed and disgusted-looking. She pointed to the table and told me to sit down, for pity’s sake.

“Just eat your breakfast and get out of here! Start doing your job, for a change!”

“Me?” I said. “I do my job all the time.”