'em that the whites ain't got—I knowed that either you er Pete Mason was a little way up the wind from me; an' Pete ain't in the habit of snoopin' round in the woods."
Warden Sam Woodfin seemed to have lost the power of speech, but Sandy Jim continued earnestly, wagging his white head.
"They's bad things, Sam, them cigarettes. Used to call 'em coffin nails. An' they interfere with business. Ef it hadn't been fer that one you smoked a while ago, you'd have got the proof on old Jim Mayfield who yer been tryin' to ketch fer two years an' more."
Again the old man shook his head mournfully.
"She was a fine doe, Sam," he said, "an' I had her right at the end o' my gun. I shore hated to let her go."
