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Updated: June 9, 2025
"Mebby hit hain't none of my business, but, all day yestiddy an' the day befo', I was a-studyin' 'bout this here thing, an' I hustled up an' got thet corn weeded, an' now I'm through. Ef I kin help ye out, I thought mebby " He paused, and looked appealingly at the artist. Lescott whistled, and then his face lighted into contentment.
His was a brand new one, black and shiny." Suddenly I couldn't taste my cigar at all. "Know what time to-day he left here?" I asked. "It wasn't to-day. 'Twas yestiddy. About one o'clock." As I plunged for the door I was conscious of his hoarse whisper following me, "What's Steve done, Jerry? What d'ye want him for?" I catapulted across the sidewalk and into the machine.
She repeated the words after him still in that even somewhat puzzled quiet which was, for her, almost toneless. "Jack Halloway, when ye went away from hyar yestiddy evenin' an' I'd sat thar fer a full measured hour an' thought, I 'lowed thar warn't a soul on earth ner in hell thet I hated so much as you. I'd done med up my mind ter kill ye afore I laid down ter sleep."
Rufe evidently felt that the line must be drawn somewhere. "An' what hev gone with that thar grant? 'T war hyar yestiddy." "I dunno," responded Rufe, carelessly. "Mebbe Pig-wigs reminded hisself 'bout'n it arter awhile, an' kem an' got it." This proved to be the case. For Andy Byers concerned himself enough in the matter to ride the old mule over to Nate's home, to push the inquiries.
He hesitated once more. "Ef I tell ye, will ye promise never ter tell enny livin' human critter?" "I hope I may drap stone dead ef I ever tell!" Nate exclaimed. "I fund a strange metal in the woods yestiddy. What d'ye s'pose 't war?" Nate shook his head. His breath was quick and he could not control the keen anxiety in his face.
So they tuk him to the horspittle, 'n Larks he up an' died there yestiddy. So us fellars we're goin' to give Larks a stylish funeril, you bet. We liked Larks an' it went over his back. Say, mister, there ain't nothin' mean 'bout us, come to buryin' of Larks; 'n we've voted to settle on one them 'Gates Ajar' pieces made o'flowers, doncherknow.
"Well, I declare," said Dan, and after a moment, "how did you get away, man?" "Lawd, Lawd," returned Big Abel, "I wa'n' bo'n yestiddy nur de day befo'. Terreckly I seed you a-cuttin' up de drive, I knowed dar wuz mo' den wuz in de tail er de eye, en w'en you des lit right out agin en bang de do' behint you fitten ter bus' hit, den I begin ter steddy 'bout de close in de big wa'drobe.
"Babe, my mammy told you something." The giant hesitated, started to lie, but nodded assent. "You haven't told anybody else?" "Nary a livin' soul." "Well, don't." Babe shuffled on, stopped, called Jason, and came back close enough to whisper: "I had all I could do yestiddy to keep little Aaron from comin' up hyeh to the mines to look for ye." Then he shuffled away. Jason began to get angry now.
"Pete Thompson him ez war yander ter the tanyard day 'fore yestiddy with his dad," said the boy, "he tole it ter me ez how he seen a bar las' Wednesday a-climbin' over the fence ter thar cornfield, with a haffen dozen roastin'-ears under his arm an' a watermillion on his head. But WAR it a haffen dozen?
D' ye think I was born yestiddy? Ye wanted th' ladies' sparklers, or I'm a doughhead." The police are the same all over the world; the original idea sticks to them, and truth in voice or presence is but sign of deeper cunning and villainy. "Anyhow, ye can't run around Washington like ye do in England, me cockney. Ye can't drive more'n a hundred miles an hour on these pavements."
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