“I’ve been figuring out what kind of a looking minnow I’d like to eat if I was a bass,” says he, as solemn as a church. “I’ve been putting myself in the place of the bass and thinking like he would think, and this minnow is the result. Now, Wee-wee, if you were a bass, wouldn’t you jump out of the water to grab that bait?”
“Dunno but what I would,” says I.
“Good!” says he. “What did you say his name was?” He jerked his thumb toward Catty.
“Catty Atkins,” says I.
“New-comer?”
“Yes.”
“Give him a personal. Mr. Catty Atkins, of—where does he come from?—is visiting friends in our midst. Something like that, eh?”
“I think,” says Catty, “that I’ve got better news than that for you.”
“Do, eh? What is it? Who’s been doin’ what?”
“It’s about Sands Jones and Darkie Patt,” says Catty.