had died out, a lank countryman craning his neck for a sight of
the sheriff, bawled out over the heads of the crowd:

"Where's your nigger? We want to put him in here!"

"I reckon he's gone fishin'. I never seen the beat of that
nigger to go fishin'," said the sheriff.

"Whoop! Ain't you goin' to put him in here?" yelled the
countryman.

"It's a mighty lonely spot for a nigger," said the sheriff
doubtingly.

"Lonely? Well, suppose he ups and lopes out of this?"

"You don't know that nigger," rejoined the sheriff warmly. "He
ain't missed a meal since I had him in custody. Just as regular
as the clock strikes he's at the back door. Good habits--why,
that darky is a lesson to most white folks!"

"I don't care a cuss about that nigger, but what's the use of
building a jail if a body ain't goin' to use it?"

"Well, there's some sense in that," agreed the sheriff.

"There's a whole heap of sense in it!"

"I suggest"--the speaker was a young lawyer from the next county
--"I suggest that a committee be appointed to wait on the nigger