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 hit 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.
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