"One moment, William," interposed Mrs. Cary, completely unconvinced. "You are sure he was on the low grounds?"
"Cose I is!" asseverated Uncle Billy, meanwhile backing farther away.
"What was he doing there?"
Uncle Billy stammered.
"He—he—he, he was trespassin', dat's what he was doin'—des natcherly trespassin'."
At this marvel of testimony, Mrs. Cary's lips relaxed in a smile and she warned him with an upraised finger.
"Be careful, Uncle Billy! Be careful."
"Yas, mar'm" chuckled the old man. "I had to be. I never would a-got him! Oh, I's tellin' de trufe, Miss Hallie. Dis' here ol' sinner tooken flewed off a boat what was comin' up de river. Yas'm. And he sure was old enough to know better."
"And you saw him fly off the boat?"
"Oh, yas'm. I seed him. I seed him," and Uncle Billy floundered for a moment, caught in his own trap. "Dat is, not wid my own eyes. But I see him settin' in de woods, lookin' dat lonesome and losted like, I felt real sorry for him. Yas'm," and to prove his deep sympathy for the unfortunate bird he stroked its breast lovingly.