try to tell me what it is,” he cried. “Only tell me how I may help you. It’s not your sin, surely, so you don’t have to bear it.”

“It’s not mine, but I do have to bear it. I wish my bearing it was all. Tell me, if — if a man has done — such a sin, is it right to help him get away?”

“If it is that big brother of yours, whom I saw last night, I can’t believe he has done anything so very wicked. You say it is not the whiskey?”

“Maybe it was the whiskey first — then — I don’t know exactly how came it — I reckon he doesn’t himself. I — he’s not my brothah — not rightly, but he has been the same as such. They telegraphed me to come home quick. Bishop Towahs told me a little —