"My drum's slam empty. All I've got's some in a one-gallon can."

"Just give me that!"

Papa handed the oil to the doctor and had scarcely had time to close the back door when the front door opened, and in walked Shoogie and Black Idd. Then Little Stray and Ned.

"Shoogie! You look funny!"

"I's sho' 'nuff bad sick this time, Bandershanks. Grandpa Idd, he takin' me up to the doctor's house, soon's we warms our feets."

"Doctor Elton ain't- He just- Doctor Elton went to get-To get you, Ned! You gotta ride far away on Mister Ward's automobile!"

"Baby, what's you talkin' 'bout?"

"You! You better go far off!"

Ned kept standing in the doorway, looking down at me. I talked as fast as I could, telling him he'd better hide, but I couldn't make him get scared! He was carrying a big wooden crate on his shoulder, and he didn't even put that down.

"Baby, where's Mister Jodie at? I got him the puppies here."

"Puppies? Papa! Com'ere! Ned's got us some puppies!" Lemme see, Ned! Open the box! Lemme see them!"

"Ned! My Lord! What're you doing here?"

I didn't know Papa could walk so fast! He was at the front of the store before Ned could set the puppy box down.

"Mister Jodie, I done fotched you them two puppies what I promised you!" Ned lifted the lid. "See 'em, Mister Jodie! They's up good size. Both fat and pretty!"

Papa wouldn't even glance down at the puppies.

"Doctor Elton's looking for you! Did he see you coming in?"

"Naw, sir. I ain't see'd the doctor. Black Idd, he on his way to his house with Shoogie."

"Aw! For goodness sakes! You must've been coming in the front door at the same time he was going out the back! It hasn't been a minute! Lemme through the door! Maybe I can make him hear me!"

In his rush to get out on the porch, Papa stumbled into the puppy box, and almost knocked me down. Black Idd pulled me back out of his way.

"Doc! Hey, Doc! Wiley! Y'all come back!"

"They ain't no stoppin' him, Mister Jodie," Black Idd told Papa. "He's got them mares in a long lope. And they's way past the grist mill!"

"Papa?"

Papa wouldn't listen.

"Move your catalogue and scissors, Bandershanks! I gotta get to the phone!"

"Papa, look at the puppies!"

"This is no time to think of dogs! I gotta call your mama to head them off!

I hope to goodness she's already back."

"Ned, can I hold this one?"

"Sho'. Stray, pick the puppy up for the baby."

Stray handed me the fat, spotted puppy, and he got the brown one. We lugged them down to where my playhouse was set up under the candy counter. Shoogie followed us, but she didn't want to play with the puppies or the paper dolls. She just sat down on the floor and leaned her head against her knees.

"h.e.l.lo! h.e.l.lo? Who's this on the line? Pa, is that you? This is Jodie. I'm trying to get Nannie. She's not back yet? Pa, I wish you'd step down to the road real quick and try to flag down the doctor and Wiley! Tell them to come back! Tell them Ned's here! Yes, sir, they'll know what you're talking about. I'll explain it to you tonight!"

Papa slammed up the phone and rushed back over to Ned and Black Idd.

"Ned, me and Doctor Elton think you'd better leave! Get clean away from Drake Eye Springs, quick as you can! Go hide out somewhere, Ned!"

"Mister Jodie, you wants me to hide on 'count of that squirrel?"

"The squirrel? Ned, did you stuff that squirrel in Mister Ward's coat pocket?"

"Yes, suh. I puts him there so's. .h.i.t'd 'pear like Mister Ward was just a-huntin'."

"Did you kill him?"

"Well, yes, suh, and no, suh! I shoots the fox squirrel, but I ain't for sho' that hit was me what kill Mister Ward."

"What do you mean, you 'ain't for sure'?"

"See, Mister Jodie, hit was like this: Sunday, just awhile 'fore sundown, me and Little Stray was walkin' 'cross the cornfield, lookin' for rabbits. Sylvie, she was with us. You knows Sylvie, Mister Jodie. She was sniffin'-"

"Yeah, I know all about the dog. But what about Ward?"

"He come 'long with his shotgun and starts shootin' at me!"

"What'd you do?"

"I runs, Mister Jodie! Fast! But I falls down-hangs my feets under a corn stalk -and I draps my shotgun. I hears three, four shots! But I ain't hit. Sylvie, she's down lickin' my face.

Quick, I gets up and looks back sideways to see how close Mister Ward's a-gettin'. No Mister Ward! I looks again, and there he is layin' down on the ground, the gun in his hand, and hit still smokin'.

"And there stands Little Stray, holdin' my gun in his hand, and hit still smokin'! I say, 'O Lawd!' I gets up. Then I tries to 'cide what to do. The blood, it's a-gushin' outta Mister Ward's neck like a stuck hog!

"I grabs the chile and shakes him. I say 'Little Stray Boy, what make you shoot Mister Ward!'"

"He yell, 'I didn't! I didn't!' But, Mister Jodie, there he stand, still holdin' my shotgun in his hand. And Mister Ward, he layin' there 'tween the corn rows. I tries some more to 'cide what to do. First I say I go get the doctor. Then I say hit's too late. He dead. Then I figgers. .h.i.t out. I totes Mister Ward up to the lane and leans him over by the fence. He was gettin' cold and stiff a' ready, Mister Jodie. I lays his gun on the ground, right 'side of his boots. Then, I takes Little Stray and Sylvie and goes back to the house. That was Sunday just 'fore dark, Mister Jodie. I don't sleep nary wink all that night. I starts out early yestiddy mornin' to see can I get a squirrel. 'Course, Little Stray, he follow 'long. 'Fore we gets outta my yard, here come that white man with the peg leg. He say come quick and help to tote Mister Ward to the house.

"We fetches him in the house and lays him on the bed. The peg-leg man sends me to tell Mister Wes. After that, I heads for the woods. I gets me a squirrel-first shot, Mister Jodie! Then, when you sends me in there with that kindlin' wood, I crams the little fox squirrel in Mister Ward's pocket!"

"My Lord, Ned! You oughtn't to have done that!"

"Mister Jodie, I just can't let the Lawmens get Little Stray!

Look down there at him, Mister Jodie, a-holdin' the puppies and playin' on the floor with the chiliens. See, he done give your baby one o' his empty sh.e.l.ls. That boy love empty shotgun sh.e.l.ls better'n anything he ever see'd. He tromp up and down the roads lookin' for sh.e.l.ls. Look at him! His poor back won't never be straight!"