"
"A nigger can give evidence against a nigger,
and it's all right," says another voice--which it
come from a feller that had a-holt of my wrist on
the left-hand side of me--"but these are white
men we are going to try to-night. The case is too
serious to take nigger evidence. Besides, I reckon
we got all the evidence any one could need. This
nigger ain't charged with any crime himself, and
my idea is that he ain't to be allowed to figure one
way or the other in this thing."
So they turned Sam loose. I never seen nor
hearn tell of Sam since then. They fired a couple
of guns into the air as he started down the road,
jest fur fun, and mebby he is running yet.
The feller had been talking like he was a lawyer,
so I asts him what crime we was charged with. But
he didn't answer me. And jest then we gets in
sight of that schoolhouse.
It set on top of a little hill, partially in the moon-
light, with a few sad-looking pine trees scattered
around it, and the fence in front broke down.
Even after night you could see it was a shabby-
looking little place.
Old Daddy Withers tied his mule to the broken
down fence. Somebody busted the front door
down. Somebody else lighted matches. The first
thing I knowed, we was all inside, and four or five
dirty little coal oil lamps, with tin reflectors to 'em,
which I s'pose was used ordinary fur school exhibi-
tions, was being lighted.
Pages:
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246