shin went out to the tree that skeeter had indicated, seated himself among the branches, and directed his vision to the kitchen door of his restaurant. so powerful were the lenses that it seemed to him that the door was only ten feet away.
first appeared the rev. vinegar atts. whiffle sat upon the steps and talked to him for some time, much to shin’s disgust.
“dat ole fat fool said he warn’t gwine to butt into my fambly scandal,” shin grumbled. “i knowed he couldn’t keep hisse’f out. he sniffs aroun’ atter yuther people’s sins like a smell-dog!”
some minutes later he brought his glasses again to bear upon the kitchen, and was disgusted to find skeeter butts on the steps.
“dat nigger oughter hab sense enough to keep away from dar,” he grumbled. “he oughter watch when he knows i ain’t watchin’.”
shin’s perch in the tree became very uncomfortable before skeeter left. then his long waiting was rewarded.
a strange man came to the kitchen door, and whiffle rushed out to meet him with every manifestation of delight. they sat down together, and whiffle left no doubt in the mind of her jealous, watchful husband that she was enamored of this new negro.
for more than an hour shin hardly took the glasses off the man’s face. for a while he had the idea that he had seen the visitor somewhere before, but this impression gradually vanished.
he decided that the stranger was a city negro, because of his easy manners. his quick-moving lips showed that he spoke readily, and he carried himself in a way that suggested a soldier. he had typical ethiopian features, and was what the negroes call “brown-skin.”
“dat is one of dese perch-mouthed city niggers wid big ideas an’ small judgment,” shin grumbled as he climbed down from the tree. “i think i’m done watchin’ him to-day. i’ll climb up here an’ hab a little session wid dat nigger to-morrer.”
when he got back to his place of business he found whiffle just as she had been for several days, bubbling over with excitement and laughter, her nerves atingle with some great secret.
“whut ails you, whiffle?” he growled. “you ack like you done seen about seben angels or had about ’leven drams. i ain’t had nothin’ to perk me up like you is.”
“i don’t tell eve’ything i knows, shinny,” she laughed, all unconscious of the clouds of jealousy which had gathered over him like a storm above a mountain peak. “a nigger husbunt hadn’t oughter know too much.”
“why oughtn’t dey know too much?” shin snapped.
“because dey’s apt to lead deir wives a dance,” whiffle snickered.
“huh!” shin grunted. “i’s like a jackass—i ain’t got no year fer music an’ no foot fer dancin’!”
then he went and loaded his pistol and slipped it into the pocket of his coat.
