She hugged him to the point of smifflication, as Mr. Sanders declared, and she held him at arm's length, the better to see whether he had changed, and in what particular. Then she turned to Mr. Sanders:
"Mr. Sanders, sholy you knows dis chil'—sholy you ain't done gone an' disremembered Randall. Des like you seed him doin' des now, dat de way he been doin' all his born days—constantly a-playin', constantly a-makin' out dat what ain't so is so, an' lots mo' so. Many an' many's de time sence Miss Adelaide been here has I had de idee dat ef Randall wuz here, he'd be mo' dan a match fer Cally-Lou an' all de rest un um dat slips out'n dreams an' stays wid us. Yasser, I sho has. But now he's come, I des feels in my bones dat he gwine ter git in deep trouble 'bout dem crimes what he run away fer."
"Randall is the chap that knocked Judge Bowden's overseer crossways an' crooked, ain't he?" inquired Mr. Sanders.
"Yasser, he done dat thing," replied Lucindy: "an how come he ter do it—him dat wuz afear'd er his own shadder—I'll never tell you. Let 'lone dat, he ain't gwin ter tell you; kaze I done ax'd him myse'f. I speck he'll haf ter run away ag'in."
"You know me, don't you, Randall?" inquired Mr. Sanders.
"La! yasser, Mr. Sanders, I've been knowin' you sence I could walk good."
"That's what I thought," said Mr. Sanders. "Well, my advice to you is to stay an' face the music. Ef the man you hit makes a move we'll have him right whar we've been a-tryin' fer to git him for two long years!"
They went toward the house, and entered the side-gate, attracting, as they did so, the attention of two or three of the neighbours. The Bishop had been so absorbed in what had occurred that he forgot to turn his coat, or to right his hat.
"Did you see old Billy Sanders?" one woman asked another over the back fence.
"I did," replied the other, "and I like to have dropped—I believe he is going crazy."