“Jes’ so, suh. He died right in dat bed, ’caus I help’ to lay him out.”
“Well, maybe I’ll die in it myself. See that the sheets are clean,” said Captain McRaffle, composedly. “What are you standing there gaping at? Do you suppose I mind a man’s dying? I’ve killed a hundred men.”
“Suh!”
“Yes, two hundred—and slept in a coffin myself to boot.” And the Captain turned on the negro so dark and saturnine a face that “Jim” withdrew in a hurry, and ten minutes later was informing the other negroes that there was a man in the house that had been dead and “done riz agin.”
And this was the equipment with which Captain McRaffle began life as a resident of Brutusville.
CHAPTER VII
THE CARY CONFERENCE