We could hear Benny stirring around in her room,
which was next to ourn, and judged she was worried a
good deal about her father and couldn't sleep. We
found we couldn't, neither. So we set up a long time,
and smoked and talked in a low voice, and felt pretty
dull and down-hearted. We talked the murder and the
ghost over and over again, and got so creepy and
crawly we couldn't get sleepy nohow and noway.
By and by, when it was away late in the night and all
the sounds was late sounds and solemn, Tom nudged
me and whispers to me to look, and I done it, and there
we see a man poking around in the yard like he didn't
know just what he wanted to do, but it was pretty dim
and we couldn't see him good. Then he started for
the stile, and as he went over it the moon came out
strong, and he had a long-handled shovel over his
shoulder, and we see the white patch on the old work-
gown. So Tom says:
"He's a-walking in his sleep. I wish we was
allowed to follow him and see where he's going to.
There, he's turned down by the tobacker-field. Out
of sight now. It's a dreadful pity he can't rest no
better."
We waited a long time, but he didn't come back any
more, or if he did he come around the other way; so
at last we was tuckered out and went to sleep and had
nightmares, a million of them. But before dawn we
was awake again, because meantime a storm had come
up and been raging, and the thunder and lightning
was awful, and the wind was a-thrashing the trees
around, and the rain was driving down in slanting
sheets, and the gullies was running rivers.
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