“Lots of good old-fashioned Alabama yellin’ goin’ on over there,” Liz remarked cheerfully, as Buddy Norris ran up, kicked the gun away, and jerked Diamond to his feet.

“That damn Yankee must think all the hounds of hell are after him,” Verna observed with satisfaction. In one swift move, Buddy pulled the man’s hands behind his back and handcuffed him. Then he went to the kitchen window and rapped on it, and the pot-clanging and African wailing stopped. The Rebel yell continued for a moment, then it stopped, too. The night was quiet once again, as front doors all along the street popped open and people spilled out onto their porches to see what was going on.

Mr. Butler, two doors down, called, “Dep’ty Norris, you need a hand over there?”

“I reckon if you’ve got ten minutes, you can help me march this Yankee off to the hoosegow,” Buddy replied. “I’m gonna book ’im on a charge of attempted assault with a deadly weapon, attempted burglary, trespassin’, and disturbin’ the peace. And maybe by the time I get him there, I’ll think of something else to pin on him.”

“Lemme get my shoes on,” Mr. Butler replied. “Be with you in a shake.”

So that was why the neighbors along Camellia Street were treated to the satisfying sight of Deputy Buddy Norris, accompanied by Mr. Butler in his undershirt, trousers, and suspenders, escorting one of Al Capone’s most dangerous gangsters to the Cypress County jail, upstairs over Snow’s Farm Supply. It wasn’t a comfortable jail, just two small cells, one of which was probably already occupied by a drunk or a vagrant.

“Well, my goodness,” Bessie said limply to Verna and Lizzy. “How in the world did you girls manage all that?”

“We didn’t do anything much,” Verna said in a modest tone. “Buddy wanted to be a hero, so we asked him to hang around in the dark and see if Diamond showed up. And Liz put Sally-Lou up to organizing a little noisemaking with those clanging pots and pans. We thought that maybe some racket from inside would confuse Diamond and make it easier for Buddy to nab him.”

“And that Rebel yell?” Bessie asked.

“That,” Liz said with a chuckle, “was Miss Hamer’s own idea.”

Verna let out her breath. “Well, now that Buddy’s got his man, what say we play some hearts?” She rubbed her hands. “I’m ready for a game!”

“Maybe we could have refreshments first,” Liz said. “All this excitement has made me thirsty. And didn’t I see some lemon chess bars on a platter on your sideboard, Bessie?” She grinned. “You must’ve known that they’re my favorite.”