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Marquis, Don, 1878-1937

"Danny's Own Story"

We both felt better because we hadn't.
All them millions we was going to make--shucks!
We didn't neither one of us give a dern about them
getting away from us. All we wanted was jest to
get away from there and not get mixed up with
no nigger problems any more. We eat supper,
and we set around a while, and we went to bed
purty middling early, so as to get a good start
in the morning.
We got up early, but early as it was the devil had
been up earlier in that neighbourhood. About
four o'clock that morning a white woman about
a half a mile from the village had been attacked
by a nigger. They was doubt as to whether she
would live, but if she lived they wasn't no doubts
she would always be more or less crazy. Fur
besides everything else, he had beat her insensible.
And he had choked her nearly to death. The
country-side was up, with guns and pistols look-
ing fur that nigger. It wasn't no trouble guessing
what would happen to him when they ketched
him, neither.
"And," says Doctor Kirby, when we hearn of
it, "I hope to high heaven they DO catch him!"
They wasn't much doubt they would, either.
They was already beating up the woods and bushes
and gangs was riding up and down the roads, and
every nigger's house fur miles around was being
searched and watched.


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