“Hear him?” one of the niggers said, fishing on the bank; it was Elberta’s sister Twosie, who spoke as if a long, long conversation had been going on, into which she would intrude only the mildest words. “Know why? Know why, in de sky, he say ‘Spirit? Spirit?’ And den he dive boom and say ‘GHOST’?”

“Why does he?” said Jinny Love, in a voice of objection.

“Yawl knows. I don’t know,” said Twosie, in her little high, helpless voice, and she shut her eyes. They couldn’t seem to get on by her. On fine days there is danger of some sad meeting, the positive danger of it. “I don’t know what he say dat for.” Twosie spoke pitifully, as though accused. She sighed. “Yawl sho ain’t got yo’ eyes opem good, yawl. Yawl don’t know what’s out here in woods wid you.”

“Well, what?”

“Yawl walk right by mans wid great big gun, could jump out at yawl. Yawl don’t eem smellim.”

“You mean Mr. Holifield? That’s a flashlight he’s got.” Nina looked at Jinny Love for confirmation. Mr. Holifield was their handy man, or rather simply “the man to be sure and have around the camp.” He could be found by beating for a long time on the porch of the American Legion boat house—he slept heavily. “He hasn’t got a gun to jump out with.”

“I know who you mean. I hear those boys. Just some big boys, like the MacLain twins or somebody, and who cares about them?” Jinny Love with her switch indented the thick mat of hair on Twosie’s head and prodded and stirred it gently. She pretended to fish in Twosie’s woolly head. “Why ain’t you scared, then?”

“I is.”

Twosie’s eyelids fluttered. Already she seemed to be fishing in her night’s sleep. While they gazed at her crouched, devoted figure, from which the long pole hung, so steady and beggarlike and ordained an appendage, all their passions flew home again and went huddled and soft to roost.

Back at the camp, Jinny Love told Miss Moody about the great big jack-knife. Easter gave it up.

“I didn’t mean you couldn’t drink out of my cup,” Nina said, waiting for her. “Only you have to hold it carefully, it leaks. It’s engraved.”

Easter wouldn’t even try it, though Nina dangled it on its ring right under her eyes. She didn’t say anything, not even “It’s pretty.” Was she even thinking of it? Or if not, what did she think about?

“Sometimes orphans act like deaf-and-dumbs,” said Jinny Love.

III

“Nina!” Jinny Love whispered across the tent, during siesta. “What do you think you’re reading?”

Nina closed The Re-Creation of Brian Kent. Jinny Love was already coming directly across the almost-touching cots to Nina’s, walking on her knees and bearing down over Gertrude, Etoile, and now Geneva.