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When the attorney reached the spot where the croas thickest, as

made for him The old coloredon a hickory stick and bent very far over, one hand resting on his

hip as if to ease a rusty joint The negro's age was an incentive to

fable; froht have known the prophets, and he wore

that hoary look of unearthly wisdoive to members of his race His face, so tortured

rinkles that it ether, was a living mask of the mystery of his blood Harkless

had once said that Uncle Xenophon had visited heaven before Swedenborg and

hell before Dante To-day, as he slowly liht and dry under the soleh his heavy nostrils

were unusually distended in the effort for regular breathing, the deeply

puckered lips beneath them were set firmly

He stopped and looked at the faces before hih the treidly controlled "Kin soood ez t' show de ole main whuh de W'ite-Caips is done shoot Marse

Hawkliss?"

"Here here it happened, Uncle Zen," answered Wiley, leaning him

forward "Here is the stain"

Xenophon bent over the spot on the sand,little odd noises in his

throat Then he painfully resumed his forentle, quavering tone "Dass elmun"