Part 8 (2/2)
hab puffick rest an' quiet an' fis.h.i.+n', just laik yo' done said on de train.”
”Humph! A murder mystery right here in town. I thought I heard the newsboys shouting something about it at the station. But I didn't listen. Who's killed, s.h.a.g?”
”Why, Colonel, sah, it's a poor ole lady, an'--”
”Stop, s.h.a.g! Not another word! How dare you try to get me interested in a case when I told you if you so much as breathed anything about one I'd horsewhip you! I told you that, didn't I?”
”Deed an' yo' did, Colonel!”
The detective paced up and down the room. He reached for the little green book. Then, as if in desperation, he turned to the shrinking negro and went on:
”You say there's a mystery about it, s.h.a.g?”
”Yes, sah, Colonel. Yes, sah!” and he made a motion toward the paper that was slipping from under his vest.
”Stop it!” cried the colonel. ”I came here to fish and read Izaak Walton in the shade of a big tree along some quiet brook. If you so much as bring a paper into this room I'll send you back to Virginia where you belong, s.h.a.g!”
”Yes, sah, Colonel!”
The military-looking detective resumed his pacing of the room, his hands behind his back clasping and unclasping nervously.
”s.h.a.g!” he suddenly called.
”Yes, sah, Colonel.”
”Is it much of a mystery--I mean--er--anything but the usual blood and thunder stuff?”
”Why, Colonel,” began the black man eagerly, ”it's de beatenist mystery dat ever was--all 'bout a murdered jewelry lady, what's got her haid busted in with a big gold statue, an' a gold knife stab in her side, an' a watch shut up tight in her hand, tickin' an' tickin' an'
_tickin'_, laik it was her heart beatin', an' her cousin done find her in a pool of blood on de floor, an' de clocks all stopped, an' a rich young spendthrift comes in an' claims de dagger, an' de detectives--”
”s.h.a.g!” fairly shouted his master.
”Yes, sah, Colonel!”
”Out of the room this instant, and don't you dare come back until I send for you!”
”Yes, sah, Colonel.”
The old colored man turned slowly to the door. His manner was dejected. Evidently he had given serious offense.
Silently he turned the k.n.o.b, but, before he had stepped over the threshhold, he heard a voice calling softly:
”s.h.a.g!”
”Yes, sah, Colonel.”
”Eh--s.h.a.g--before you go, you--er--you might leave me that paper I see under your vest. I may have occasion to--to glance at it, to see what to-morrow's weather is going to be for fis.h.i.+ng.”
”Yes, sah, Colonel.”
<script>