“How come?” the two whooped in irate tones.
Vakey’s right hand was waving a pistol with what seemed to Tick to be extreme carelessness. He was sure he was going to be killed, and he lifted his terrified eyes for one startled look at the white tombstones which stood in the graveyard beside the church.
Then the only inspiration he had ever had came to him in a flash.
“My Gawd!” he whooped, and his face and voice were certainly expressive of terror, an alarm he had been feeling for ten minutes. “My Gawd! Look over yander at that graveyard!”
The two women turned to look with startled suddenness.
It was quite an artful ruse for a slow wit like Tick Hush. He had not seen a thing, but as the women turned Tick took the first step in his getaway.
Then a fortuitous circumstance contributed to Tick’s escape.
Skeeter Butts had concealed himself on the far side of the churchyard near to the cemetery fence in order to command a large view of the locality near the sycamore tree where Tick was to meet the two women.
Skeeter was afraid of that graveyard. He did not like to lie down so near to it. For ten minutes the cold shivers had been chasing up and down his spine, and he earnestly desired to be anywhere but where he was.
As soon as he heard Tick’s horrified exclamation he felt like he must leave the vicinity of the burying-ground at once. He arose to depart, and thus it happened that it was Skeeter dressed in a ghostly white duck suit, that the two negro women saw!