her arms around my neck and told me to say it _again_, say it _again_, say it _again_! I see I had spoke too sudden and said too much, and was in a close place. I asked her to let me think a minute; and she set there, very impatient and excited and handsome, but looking kind of happy and eased-up, like a person that's had a tooth pulled out.  So I went to studying it out.  I says to myself, I reckon a body that ups and tells the truth when he is in a tight place is taking considerable many resks, though I ain't had no experience, and can't say for certain; but it looks so to me, anyway; and yet here's a case where I'm blest if it don't look to me like the truth is better and actuly _safer_ than a lie.  I must lay it by in my mind, and think it over some time or other, it's so kind of strange and unregular. I never see nothing like it.  Well, I says to myself at last, I'm a-going to chance it; I'll up and tell the truth this time, though it does seem most like setting down on a kag of powder and touching it off just to see where you'll go to. Then I says: “Miss Mary Jane, is there any place out of town a little ways where you could go and stay three or four days?” “Yes; Mr. Lothrop's.  Why?” “Never mind why yet.  If I'll tell you how I know the niggers will see each other again inside of two weeks--here in this house--and _prove_ how I know it--will you go to Mr. Lothrop's and stay four days?” “Four days!” she says; “I'll stay a year!” “All right,” I says, “I don't want nothing more out of _you_ than just your word--I druther have it than another man's kiss-the-Bible.”  She smiled and reddened up very sweet, and I says, “If you don't mind it, I'll shut the door--and bolt it.” Then I come back and set down again, and says: “Don't you holler.  Just set still and take it like a man.  I got to tell the truth, and you want to brace up, Miss Mary, because it's a bad kind, and going to be hard to take, but there ain't no help for it.  These uncles of yourn ain't no