"You're a liar," said Faircloth. He eyed the man coldly. "Try the story over again. Once more now."
The farmer jolted to his feet, his eyes feverish. "I done just like I told you. I didn't tell no lie. I heard the dog yelping—"
"And you opened the door and there was a stranger there." Faircloth's voice was sharp. "Then what happened? Step by step. Minute by minute. I mean it, mister, I want the truth."
"I—I looked at him—"
"What light did you have?"
"This here same light. Not very much—"
"And what did he say?"
"He said, 'I'm a traveler and I'd like something to eat.'"
"And what did his voice sound like?"
The farmer faltered. "It was funny—like gravel in a tin can. A funny kind of voice."