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"Uh-huh. . . . Suppose we step over to Railroad Jones's office an' ast him about this little matter. I got some business with him, an' he's a mighty level-headed feller anyway. What he don't know usually ain't happened yet, an' ain't a-goin' to happen."

Mr. Sandage turned behind the door for his hat while Abner watched him uneasily. When the trustee was ready to start, the younger man said in an embarrassed tone, "Jim, I—I kain't go out in the street with ye."

"Why kain't ye—what's the matter with ye?"

Abner flushed under his tan, but for answer turned his back. His coat was stained and stiffened and made of shreds patched together. The garment might have been run through a mangling machine. The county trustee stared at his boy, astounded.

"You don't mean them God-damned scoundrels . . ."

"That's what they done all right," Abner relapsed into his savage undertone, "an' my back was the same way. It was two weeks before I could walk!"

"Where you been all this time?"

"Some niggers took care of me. A old nigger woman patched up my coat so it would hold. They wouldn't git me no gun for fear of gittin' into trouble theirse'ves, damn 'em!"

"That's like a nigger!" sneered the trustee. He thought a moment, went behind the door, and brought out another coat. "Pull that off an' use this'n—doggone my skin, I b'l'eve you're bigger'n I am."

As Abner gingerly permitted the new coat to be slipped on him, the trustee asked, "If it ain't givin' away no secrets, Ab, I'd like to know what actually went with the gal yo' knowed in Arntown?"

"She married a damn infidel," stated Abner briefly.

"The hell she did!"

"Yep."

The two turned out of the trustee's office side by side for an interview with Railroad Jones.

When the two men reached Railroad Jones's office they