It was too late then. I knowed, whatever happened, there’d be people to the end of his life would always believe it. I knowed there’d be young uns running from him and niggers hiding. And I knowed there wasn’t a thing in the world now could keep him out of Chattahoochie for the time being. I knowed he’d fight when he was taken, and all them mad and hot and dusty deputies would get him to the lunatic asylum quicker than a black snake can cross hot ashes. And once a man that has cut the fool all his life, like Uncle Benny, is in the crazy-house, there’ll be plenty of folks to say to keep him there.

It was too late. Uncle Benny was bearing down toward the garage and right in front of him was the barricade.

Doc hollered, “Be ready to jump on him when he stops!”

Stop? Uncle Benny stop? He kept right on coming. The sight of that chicken-wire barricade was no more to him than an aggravation. Uncle Benny and the Model-T dived into the barricade like a water-turkey into a pool. The barricade held. And the next thing we knowed, the Ford had somersaulted over the fencing and crumpled up like a paper shoe-box and scattered bird-dogs over ten acres and laid Uncle Benny in a heap over against the wall of the smoke-house. I was raised to use the language of a lady, but I couldn’t hold in.

“Doc,” I said, “you low-down son of a ——”

He said, “Mis’ Dover, the name’s too good. I’ve killed my friend.”

Killed him? Killed Uncle Benny? It can’t be done until the Almighty Hisself hollers “Sooey!” Uncle Benny was messed up considerable, but him nor none of the bird-dogs was dead.

The doctor took a few stitches in him at the garage before he come to, and tied up his head right pretty in a white bandage. We left Will to quiet the deputies and we put Uncle Benny in Doc’s car and carried him home to the Old Hen. Naturally, I figured it would set her to quarrelling. Instead, it just brought out all her sweetness. I can guess a man, but I can’t guess another woman.

“The pore ol’ feller,” she said. “I knowed he had it coming to him. What the devil throws over his back—. I knowed he’d kill hisself in that Ford car, cutting the fool and prowling. The biggest load is off my mind. Now,” she said, “now, by God’s mercy, when it did come to him, he got out alive.”

She begun fanning him with a palmetto fan where he lay on the bed, and Doc poured out a drink of ’shine to have ready for him when he come to. Doc’s hand was trembling. Uncle Benny opened his eyes. He eased one hand up to the bandage across his head and he groaned and grunted. He looked at Doc as if he couldn’t make up his mind whether or not to reach for his pistol. Doc put the ’shine to his mouth and Uncle Benny swallowed. Them wicked blue eyes begun to dance.