"Jerk the top off my oil drum and scrooch down in there. It's empty!"
"Where's I gwine to put Little Stray?"
"Stick him in the flour barrel! Make haste! But don't shut that lid tight! Bandershanks, baby, come 'way from the window. You sit back down under the candy counter and be playing with them paper dolls! You too, Shoogie! Don't let them puppies get outta that box or make any racket. And, Bandershanks, if you ever in your life kept your mouth shut, do it this time! Don't say a word—not a word—when all the men come in. Don't mention Ned and Stray. Just keep playing and keep quiet!"
Papa dashed back toward the heater. "Black Idd, the men are after Ned! And Mister Bailey's got the sheriff, figuring to have me arrested, I reckon! You gotta help me till I can talk some sense into them!"
"What I do, Mister Jodie?"
"Get farther back there behind the heater and sit on the keg. Make out like you're dozing off to sleep! It'll look like everything's the same as usual."
Papa leaped over the counter and ran to the far end of the store, where he started moving bottles of snuff from one shelf to another. He began whistling, of all things. Next minute, when Mister Wes shoved open the front door and all the men came crowding in, Papa didn't so much as halfway look around.
"Hey, Jodie!"
"Why hi, Wes! I'll be up there in a minute. I was sorta straightening things up back here in the back, getting this conglomeration of snuff together on one shelf. Well! Looks like we got quite a delegation here! Morning, Sheriff. Morning, Mister Hawk. Hal, Dan, all y'all. Come on in, Doctor Elton. Why, Pa, I didn't see you. Y'all find yourselves some chairs. I got one or two more here in the back. Wiley, son, you bring them up here so everybody can sit down. I'll roll up another nail keg or two."
"We ain't in no sittin' notion!" Mister Hawk told Papa. "Jodie, it was that darkie Ned that murdered Ward! We gotta get him. Doc says he won't go. Says we gotta be legal. I say we can save the sheriff here some time and trouble."