_"
"What's dat, Miss Mollie?" asked Lugena, eagerly, as the last title
was read. "Dat's what dat ar sheriff man said my Nimbus was--a
non--_non_--what, Miss Mollie? I tole him 'twan't no sech
ting; but la sakes! I didn't know nothing in de worl' 'bout it.
I jes 'llowed dat 'twas sunthin' mighty mean, an' I knowed dat I
couldn't be very fur wrong nohow, ef I jes contraried ebbery word
what he said. What does it mean, Miss Mollie?"
"It just means," said Mollie, "that Nimbus owes somebody--this Mr.
Winburn, I judge, and--"
"It's a lie! A clar, straight-out lie!" interrupted Lugena. "Nimbus
don't owe nobody nary cent--not nary cent, Miss Mollie! Tole me
dat hisself jest a little time ago."
"Yes, but this man _claims_ he owes him--swears so, in fact;
and that he has run away or hidden to keep from paying it," said
Mollie. "He swears he is a non-resident--don't live here, you
know; lives out of the State somewhere."
"An' Peyton Winburn swars ter dat?" asked the woman, eagerly.
"Yes, certainly."
"Didn't I tell yer dat Nimbus was safe, Miss Mollie?" she cried,
springing from her chair. "Don't yer see how dey cotch derselves?
Ef der's ennybody on de green yairth dat knows all 'bout dis
Ku Kluckin' it's Peyton Winburn, and dat ar Sheriff Gleason. Now,
don't yer know dat ef he was dead dey wouldn't be a suin' on him
an' a swearin' he'd run away?"
"I'm sure I don't know, but it would seem so," responded Mollie.
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