While he was still busy with his writing, in obedience to his orders, Andy and Minerva returned. They stopped at the doorway and peeped in cautiously before entering. Astonished and terrified to find the room so dimly lighted they held a whispered conference in the hall:
"Better not go in dar, chile!" Andy warned.
"Ah, come on, you fool!" Minerva insisted. "He ain't gwine ter hurt us!"
"I tell ye he's wild—he's gone crazy, sho's yer born! I kin feel dem fingers playin' on my windpipe now!"
"What's he doin' dar at dat desk?" Minerva asked.
"He's writin' good-by ter dis world, I'm tellin' ye, an' hit's time me an' you wuz makin' tracks!"
"Ah, come on!" the woman urged.
Andy hung back and shook his head:
"Nasah—I done bin in dar an' got my dose!"
"You slip up behin' him an' see what he's writin'," Minerva suggested.