times like a person that's got a dry throat, and then says: “I hain't ever done you no harm.  You know that.  So, then, what you want to come back and ha'nt _me_ for?” I says: “I hain't come back--I hain't been _gone_.” When he heard my voice it righted him up some, but he warn't quite satisfied yet.  He says: “Don't you play nothing on me, because I wouldn't on you.  Honest injun now, you ain't a ghost?” “Honest injun, I ain't,” I says. “Well--I--I--well, that ought to settle it, of course; but I can't somehow seem to understand it no way.  Looky here, warn't you ever murdered _at all?_” “No.  I warn't ever murdered at all--I played it on them.  You come in here and feel of me if you don't believe me.” So he done it; and it satisfied him; and he was that glad to see me again he didn't know what to do.  And he wanted to know all about it right off, because it was a grand adventure, and mysterious, and so it hit him where he lived.  But I said, leave it alone till by and by; and told his driver to wait, and we drove off a little piece, and I told him the kind of a fix I was in, and what did he reckon we better do?  He said, let him alone a minute, and don't disturb him.  So he thought and thought, and pretty soon he says: “It's all right; I've got it.  Take my trunk in your wagon, and let on it's your'n; and you turn back and fool along slow, so as to get to the house about the time you ought to; and I'll go towards town a piece, and take a fresh start, and get there a quarter or a half an hour after you; and you needn't let on to know me at first.” I says: “All right; but wait a minute.  There's one more thing--a thing that _nobody_ don't know but me.  And that is, there's a nigger here that I'm a-trying to steal out of slavery, and his name is _Jim_--old Miss Watson's Jim.” He says: “What!  Why, Jim is--” He stopped and went to studying.  I says: “I know what you'll say.  You'll say it's dirty, low-down business; but what if it is?  I'm low down; a