Skeeter Butts spent a large part of the night in deep meditation.
The next morning all his friends crowded into the Hen-Scratch to discuss the show. Tella Tandy’s revelations interested them most.
“How come dat purty little coon knowed all about me so good?” Vinegar Atts wanted to know.
“How did she know dat a gram-jury meetin’ is de real sign fer me to leave dis town?” Pap Curtain inquired.
“How did she guess dat I swiped Marse Tom Gaitskill’s licker-jug an’ had it hid out ferninst a pine stump?” Prince Total wanted to know.
“I kin answer all dem ’terrogations, niggers,” Skeeter Butts grinned. “When dat gal fust come to town I didn’t know she wus connected up wid no show, an’ I didn’t had no idear she wus married, an’ I armed her aroun’ an’ tried to git her to love me. She axed me about a millyum questions about you-alls, an’ las’ night when she pulled up dat stunt she was jes’ repeatin’ over whut I done tole her!”
“My Lawd!” Prince Total exclaimed. “Dat warn’t no fair. I wus mighty nigh skeart to death.”
“I reckin so,” Vinegar Atts bellowed. “Yo’ mem’ry ain’t loaded wid nothin’ but blank ca’tridges ontil people begins to talk about yo’ meanness—den yo’ shore is got plenty ammunition of remembrunce.”
“I hope she ain’t gwine pull no more of dat stuff,” Pap Curtain said uneasily. “How much did you tell her ’bout me, Skeeter?”