"Oh, I reckon whatever you got to do, you kin do. I didn't see no
other way; so one mornin' I put a old fo-patch quilt over the hoss,
tied a bucket of oats on behin' it an' fixed some vittles fer Jim,
an' started 'em off. It was a forty-mile ride to the city, so I
calkerlated to start Jim so's he'd git to Dr. White's 'bout
nightfall."

"Dr. White was your old doctor, wasn't he?" prompted Miss Hazy.

"Yes'm. He used to tend Mr. Wiggs before we moved over into Bullitt
County. You know Mr. Wiggs was a widow man when I married him. He
had head trouble. Looked like all his inflictions gethered together
in that head of hisn. He uster go into reg'lar transoms!"

Miss Hazy was awe-struck, but more dreadful revelations were to
follow.

"I guess you knew I killed him," continued Mrs. Wiggs, calmly. "The
doctor an' ever'body said so. He was jes' gitten over typhoid, an' I
give him pork an' beans. He was a wonderful man! Kept his senses
plumb to the end. I remember his very las' words. I was settin' by
him, waitin' fer the doctor to git there, an' I kep' saying 'Oh, Mr.
Wiggs! You don't think you are dying do you?' an' he answered up
jes' as natural an' fretful-like, 'Good lan', Nancy! How do I know?
I ain't never died before.' An' them was the very las' words he ever
spoke."

"Was he a church member, Miss Wiggs?" inquired Miss Hazy.

"Well, no, not exactly," admitted Mrs. Wiggs, reluctantly. "But he