“He’s a well-set-up man, Harvey.”
It was time to hit the nail. “Sam, I want the truth. _Was_ there a bear
on Pitcher Mountain?”
“Yes, there was--three year ago. I saw it myself, after it ’uz dead.”
“Go on. Make a clean breast of it.”
“There, I knowed you’d be right on me. All right, I’ll tell you
ever’thing. I meant to all the time. But ’fore I begin, I want you to
tell me what’s an impersile?”
“An impersile? Oh--ah--an imbecile is a sort of fool.”
“I reckoned it was about that,” he said; and, too late, I remembered.
“I won’t keep back a dod-blessed thing, Mis’ Dolly. You know how
my dog Buck acts when they’s a fox usin’ around. He’ll lay on the
hearth-rock thinkin’ how he’s goin’ to git that fox. An’ ’long about
two o’clock I have to git up an’ let him out. Then he goes to Len’s
an’ rumbles on the door till Len gits up an’ lets _his_ dog out, an’
Buck takes him off to hunt that fox. He’ll keep that up fer weeks if it
takes weeks to git him. It was jest thataway with me. I had to study
out how I was goin’ to git Harvey. He was a friend o’ yorn, stayin’ in
yore barn, an’ I couldn’t go over there an’ lammux him. I’m a peaceable
man anyhow, an’ that ain’t my way.”
“I know it isn’t, Sam, and I am surprised that you couldn’t overlook
one thoughtless word, where no harm was meant.”
“Yer goin’ too fast now. I did overlook, come time. You know the Bible
says that the birds may light on your head, but ye needn’t let ’em make
a nest in yer hair. That means ’at hard words may drap on you, but ye
needn’t harbor ’em in yer heart. When that word kep’ a-stickin’, I
knowed I had to git it out, and I did. I feel all right now, an’ I’ll
do any favor fer Mr. Harvey if he’ll come an’ ast me right. I’ll drive
him down to the depot if he’ll ast me, though I told Krettie I’d
never do it, an’ I said I’d make him push his trunks down hissef in a
wheelbarr’.”
Concern must have risen to my face, for he became regally assuring.
“Don’t you worry a bit now. I thought it all out, an’ I ’lowed I could
git along ’thout doin’ him any harm. Overlook it! Ain’t I showed that
plain? Didn’t I knock off ploughin’ in the middle o’ April an’ the
dogwoods a-buddin’ jest to take him bear-huntin’? He was bound to go.
He was wuss’n a hen that’s goin’ to set, eggs er no eggs.”
“Oh, Sam, you know you started it yourself!”
“I jest talked a little, as is common. It’s a man’s nater to drap
his talk aroun’ without lookin’ to see whose head is hot. Shorely to
goodness, yer not goin’ to blame that on me!”
“Well, what happened? You’ve got his gun, his jacket, his cap, and his
shirt.”
“An’ his safety razor,” added Sam, “an’ these here.” He pulled tenderly
at a pocket of the jacket and gave me a shining glimpse of the silk
socks. “I put ’em on oncet. Boys! Slipper-ellum ain’t nothin’!” Then he
began his story.