"Mr. Nuckles rode close to the woodshed and looked up at him.
"'My brother, I fear you be not a Christian,' he said.
"He swore at the minister. That settled him.
"'What's all this erbout?' Mr. Nuckles asked me.
"'He and his friend are from Missouri,' I says. 'They're lookin' for some runaway slaves an' they come here and pitched into us, and one got throwed ag'in' the barn an' the other clum to the roof.'
"'I reckon he better stay thar till he gits a little o' God's grace in his soul,' says the minister.
"Then he says to the dog: 'Ponto, you keep 'im right thar.'
"The dog appeared to understand what was expected of him.
"The minister got off his hoss and hitched him and took off his coat and put it on the ground.
"'What you goin' to do?' I says.