I nods then. I was glad to get it off'n my mind.
"Yes," says I; "she did."
"Who was it, Curly?" says he, quiet.
"It was the man next door—the Wisners' hired man," says I.
I'd rather of shot Old Man Wright and killed him decent than say what I did then.
"You're a damn liar!" says he to me at length, quiet like.
"Colonel," says I, "you can't call that to me, nor no other man, and you know it."
"I do call it to you!" says he. "My girl couldn't of done that."
"I wish I was a liar, Colonel," says I; "but I ain't. I'll give you one day to take that back, and you ain't going to study about no proofs neither. I've worked for you a long time. I've loved the girl like you did. It ain't no way for you to do to talk thataway to me. I'll say I've knew this some time and tried to stop it—it was my business to stop it. I tried a hundred times to tell you about it, but I couldn't without pretty near killing her and you too. She ast me not to tell you and—why, hell! I loved her, same as you did."
"How far has it gone, Curly?" says he. He come over now and patted his hand up and down my shoulder, looking away, which was his way of saying he was sorry. "Don't mind me, Curly," says he. "I'm crazy! You mustn't mind me, but tell me all you know now. I know you couldn't lie to either of us if you tried."