"We sent for one, but if he come, we never saw him," Mrs. Butts replied.
"Would you uv believed it, William? An' yit it's the plain truth," said Mahlon.
"What time was Hotchkiss killed?"
"'Bout half-past ten; maybe a little sooner."
This was all the information Mr. Sanders could get, and it was a great deal more than he wanted in one particular. He knew that Gabriel Tolliver was innocent of the killing; but the fact that his name was called by the dying man was almost as damaging as an ante-mortem accusation would have been.
Mr. Sanders rode to Ike Varner's cabin, a few hundred yards away. Tying his horse to the fence on the opposite side of the road, he entered the house without ceremony.
"Who is that? La! Mr. Sanders, you sho did skeer me," exclaimed Edie. "Why, when did you come? I would as soon have spected to see a ghost!"
"You'll see 'em here before you're much older," replied Mr. Sanders, grimly. "They ain't fur off. Wher's Ike?"
"La! ef you know anything about Ike you know more than I does. I ain't laid eyes on that nigger man, not sence——" She paused, and looked at Mr. Sanders with a smile.
"Not sence the night Hotchkiss was killed," said Mr. Sanders, completing her sentence for her.