|=^li#«^*^^«^ 
 
 JJe heard the clash of the crmturv's teeth. 
 
E 31ll 
 
 BY 
 
 OCTAYE THANET 
 
 WITH ILLUSTRATIONS 
 BY E. J. AUSTEN AND J. P. BIRR EN 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 
 1891 
 
COPTEIGHT, 1891, 
 
 By D. APPLETON AND COMPANY. 
 
TO 
 
 THEEE LITTLE OHILDEEN I LOVE 
 HAERY, DECKEE, AND GEACE 
 
 (vio:j,^*054 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I.— Cousin Cecil '. . 9 
 
 II.— The Old " Conjure-Woman " .... 30 
 
 III. — Larry 42 
 
 IV.— The First Day 53 
 
 v.— Aunt Valley again 88 
 
 VI.— On the Trail 106 
 
 VII.— The Detective 122 
 
 VIII. — How Cecil makes Acquaintance with Judge 
 
 Lynch 138 
 
 IX. — North and South 145 
 
 X.— The Hog-hunt 162 
 
 XL— " Ha'nts ! " 192 
 
 XII.— Vance's Message 203 
 
 XIII.— The End of a Wicked Man . . . .223 
 
 XIV. — Cecil does something nice for Cobbs . . 234 
 
 XV. — Sally does a Nice Thing for Cobbs . . . 253 
 
 XVI.— Conclusion 272 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTEATIONS. 
 
 He heard the clash of the creature's teeth . Fronti 
 
 '• Is you all done heerd the news ? " . 
 
 " Quit, ye fools ! " he bawled .... 
 
 Cecil lifted his gun 
 
 Finding the hoof-prints 
 
 " You can strike me if you like ; I won't hit back "' 
 
 Cis knew that Ally saw something horrible 
 
 " Got your revolver ready, Cis ? " . 
 
 The apparition at Aunt Valley's .... 
 
 Rasmus riderless and lame ; what did it mean ? , 
 
 " You was with me ! You planned it all ! " 
 
 " I done it ! Aunt Valley an' me ! " gasped Larry 
 
 ^jnece 
 
 31 
 67 
 75 
 108 
 158 
 195 
 201 
 211 
 219 
 231 
 25G 
 
WE ALL 
 
 CHAPTEE I. 
 
 COUSIN CECIL. 
 
 ^^^LAISr and Sally Seyton came home 
 
 from school an hour earlier than 
 % t|^ usual, in order to go to the rail- 
 way station with their father, to meet 
 their cousin Cecil. 
 Keally they did not go home ; they only crossed 
 the green between the little white school-house and 
 old man Johnson's cotton-patch, and waited un- 
 der the great black- walnut tree until they saw the 
 "hack" coming with Zurufa and Polly trotting 
 fast, their tails and manes flying. 
 
 In Arkansas a hack is simply a spring-wagon, 
 80 named because of the hard usage to which such 
 vehicles are exposed on Arkansas roads. 
 
 Already the hack was splashed with mud. Colo- 
 nel Seyton sat alone on the front seat of the wag- 
 on ; the other seat was empty. 
 
10 WE ALL. 
 
 Every little darkey on the plantation would grin 
 at the sight of Colonel Seyton's tanned, smiling 
 face, and bright blue eyes. 
 
 The Seytons were Scotch a hundred years ago ; 
 and, while the Southern sun might stain tlieir fair 
 skins, it could not darken their clear blue eyes, or 
 fade out the red dash in the brown of their curly 
 hair. 
 
 Colonel Dick Seyton's left sleeve was pinned to 
 his breast, but with the reins about his neck, and 
 with his strong right hand, he guided his horses 
 perfectly. 
 
 That empty sleeve came from the same battle- 
 field that gave him his colonel's eagle. A score 
 of times had the old soldiers of his father's regi- 
 ment told Alan the story, until he seemed to see 
 the red-and-white flag falling, and his father, with 
 his shattered arm, springing from his horse, catch- 
 ing the colors with his sound hand, beating down 
 the Yankee gunner with the staff itself, and then 
 sinking, but, even as he dropped, clutching the 
 staff so that the flag might float above his pros- 
 trate body. 
 
 *' And we won the fort, didn't we ? " Alan 
 would cry, with sparkling eyes. " One of the men 
 hollered, ' Don't leave the major and the flag ! ' and 
 
COUSIN CECIL. 11 
 
 then they went iijing up tlie ramparts, didn't 
 they ? " 
 
 Xot until long afterward could he understand 
 why Cobb gave a quiet sort of sigh as he an- 
 swered, " Oh, yes, boy, we won that time." 
 
 To-day, however, Alan's brain had other mat- 
 ters for digestion. He chipped away with his 
 broken-bladed pocket-knife at the edges of the big 
 sign nailed on the walnut-tree, cheerful advice to 
 " buy your ready-made coffins in Portia, Arkansas, 
 of J. G. Topper," but it was purely from the boyish 
 instinct to be destroying something, for his thoughts 
 were far away. So were Sally's. '' Do you reckon 
 he will look like his picture. Ally ? " said she. 
 
 " ]^o," said Ally, sorrowfully ; " do we look hke 
 our pictures that we sent him \ " 
 
 " We do, a little," Sally suggested, meekly ; 
 "sometimes people look hke their pictures." 
 
 " Well, I don't care how he looks, if h6 is nice. 
 I dare say he can't shoot — " Alan's thoughts had 
 left the unimportant subject of appearance, and 
 gone to the real business of life — ''I'm going to 
 lend him my gun and show him." 
 
 " And I'll show him how to row," said Sally. 
 
 "Say, Sally, isn't it lucky we got all those 
 pecans drying? 'Course, he likes pecans." 
 
12 WE ALL. 
 
 "How do you know he does?" said Sally. 
 "Well, may be. Northerners don't like persim- 
 mons ; that's what they don't like. His room is 
 all ready." The children were pursuing different 
 lines of thought, although they converged on the 
 same subject. " I finished the pin-cushion yester- 
 day, and he's got the silk quilt" — Sally's tones 
 were reverential — " mamma says he's going to 
 have it all the time. And she's put in the dress- 
 ing-case." 
 
 " The one he sent her last Christmas from Lon- 
 don with all the ivory things ? " 
 
 "Yes, it's there. And the new curtains tied 
 with ribbon. And she took that pretty picture he 
 sent me, last Christmas, and hung it up on the wall 
 — oh, it does look awfully pretty ! And say. Ally, 
 she's going to have some hot coffee for us when we 
 get back ! " 
 
 " Good for her ! There's papa ! Whoop ! " 
 Colonel Seyton acknowledged the shout, and lifted 
 his own hat in response to Alan, who was swinging 
 his sealskin cap in the air. 
 
 " Hop in, youngsters ! " he called, reining in the 
 horses. Alan climbed in front by his father, and 
 Sally sat on the back seat. 
 
 " Let me drive, papa ? " asked Alan. 
 
COUSIN CECIL. 13 
 
 " I'll do better," answered Colonel Seyton with 
 a smile ; "you keep your eye on me and tlie way I 
 drive, going, and when we come back you may take 
 the lines. Look out for the corduroy patch after 
 we get to the woods, now ! " 
 
 " The boy will like to show off a bit, I dare 
 say," thought the father. " AYell, our young North- 
 erner may find that we know how to do a few things 
 in the swamp. A conceited young rascal, I fear, 
 from the letter. Favors his mother, most likely. 
 Poor John ! " 
 
 He mentally rehearsed the letter wdiich he had 
 received from his wife's cousin and his own warm 
 friend. " Xellie " (Kellie was Mrs. Kaimund) " is go- 
 ing to Europe, as usual. She will spend the win- 
 ter in the south of France. She wanted to take 
 Cecil, but I objected. To tell the truth, Dick, these 
 European trips are plajdng the mischief with Cis. 
 You know with what a gang — courier, maids, tutor, 
 etc. — E'ellie always travels, and the hotel people 
 ready to stand on their heads for her ; and every now 
 and then a lot of toadies from home joining the 
 court, so to speak. Cis is a good boy, naturally, as 
 any man could wish, but he is beginning to think 
 too much of luxury and money ; he is getting sus- 
 picious and cynical, the young beggar. But when 
 
14 WE ALL. 
 
 I think of tlie doses of abject flattery lie is receiving 
 right and left, because he will one day inherit my 
 money, I don't so mnch wonder. 
 
 " Then, it is not much better when he comes 
 back to Chicago. There are plenty of men who 
 don't care a rap for my money or Nellie's big balls, 
 but they stay away ; but the idiots who are ready to 
 crawl on all-fours come, and Cis sees them. 
 
 " Don't misunderstand me. Cis is a good boy. 
 He has no bad habits ; he is generous, unselfish to a 
 certain extent, and very fond of a few people ; but 
 he is getting spoiled : he needs to be Americanized, 
 needs to see a simple, natural life, where he will 
 have to stand on his own feet ; and, if he gets a 
 few sound thrashings, it may save him from worse, 
 that's all ! ]^ow, Dick, I am going to ask a great 
 favor of you ; I believe the very best thing in the 
 world for Cecil would be to spend the winter on 
 your plantation. It is a great deal to ask, but, if 
 Cousin Emily is the girl I used to know, she wdll be 
 willing to help my boy." 
 
 There was more about his own plans, but this 
 was the portion of the letter that had been etched, 
 as it were, on the colonel's mind, and made him ex- 
 claim again, " Poor John ! " 
 
 Then he was conscious that Ally was talking. 
 
COUSIN CECIL. 15 
 
 "Did you save Cousin John Eaimund's life, 
 papa ? " said Ally. " Cobb said you did." 
 
 " Well, hardly," said the colonel. 
 " Cobb said you two were left on the battle- 
 field together, just you tw^o alive, and you gave him 
 some of your whisky, and he was a Yankee, and 
 then you took him on your back and crawled off 
 with him to a house. Did you take him on your 
 back and crawl ? " 
 
 "Well, I couldn't walk right straight mth a 
 bullet in my leg, you know." 
 
 " And you did tote him ? " 
 
 " I reckon he couldn't make out to crawl him- 
 self, just then." 
 
 " And Cobb says you stayed there v/ith him till 
 you both got well. After you got to Cobb's, did 
 you find out he was your cousin ? " 
 
 "He wasnH papa's cousin then," Sally inter- 
 rupted from the back seat ; " he was mamma's 
 cousin, and mamma didn't know papa until after 
 the war." 
 
 " Oh ! " said Ally, the astounding vision of days 
 when mamma w^as nothing to papa quite taking his 
 power of criticism away. 
 
 He sat silent for at least half an hour. Sally 
 said as little, because she was absorbed in a half- 
 
16 WE ALL. 
 
 eager, half-timid reverie of pleasure. The far-away 
 Northern cousin, whose beautiful presents came to 
 them every Christmas, and whose rare letters were 
 all about wonderful foreign things, had grown into 
 an ideal fairy prince in untraveled little Sally's 
 mind. It seemed too beautiful to be true that he 
 should really be coming to stay all winter wdth 
 them. 
 
 Alan was pleased, but he always took things 
 more calmly than his twin sister, who sat with danc- 
 ing eyes and beating heart while the big cypress 
 and gum trees drifted past. 
 
 "There they are!" exclaimed Colonel Seyton, 
 abruptly. 
 
 The children craned their necks ; they could see 
 the little railway-station house and the tavern beside 
 it, and a train of cars just puffing and rumbling 
 out of sight. A single car w^as side-tracked on 
 the nearer side. From this car descended a gen- 
 tleman and a boy, both of whom looked up the 
 road. 
 
 The two on the platform were looking with 
 equal interest at the wagon. 
 
 " Yes," said the man — and there was emotion in 
 his face, — " that is Seyton ; those must be his chil- 
 dren." 
 
COUSIN CECIL. 17 
 
 " Those common-looking people ! " exclaimed 
 the boy, with visible disappointment. 
 
 He repented his speech instantly, for a little 
 streak of red climbed into his father's cheek, and 
 there came a quick contraction of his brows; but 
 all Mr. Kairnund said was, ''I am hoping you will 
 not feel like talking that way by the time you come 
 home, Cis," which was uttered in a very quiet voice. 
 
 Yet Cecil felt a lump in his throat ; not even 
 John Eaimund himself knew how the boy loved his 
 father. At this very moment a bitter foreboding 
 of loneliness was tugging at his heart-strings. He 
 stared dismally around him ; at the little tavern, the 
 muddy roads winding back into the desolate woods, 
 the skeletons of trees, and the inky pools of water 
 shining through the tree-trunks. There was a mist 
 before his eyes which all his winking could not 
 clear away. In spite of multitudinous resolutions 
 of courage and self-control, he broke do^vn. " O 
 dad," he pleaded — he had called his father so from 
 his babyhood, to his mother's intense disgust — " O 
 dad, let me stay with you ! I won't be a bit of 
 trouble, and I'll stay in the car whenever you want 
 to go out with gentlemen — " 
 
 His father's hand on his shoulder, although it 
 was the gentlest touch, stopped the flood of words. 
 
18 WE ALL. 
 
 " My dear son," said John Raimund, " my dear 
 boy — " and then he stopped, too, quite abruptly ; it 
 was ahnost as if — could such a thing be possible — 
 he, a grown man, wanted to cry. 
 
 In a minute he began again. " Cis, you may 
 not understand it, but it is a very hard thing for me 
 not to take you with me — harder for me, I dare say, 
 than for you. After you come back from this visit 
 I am going to explain to you as well as I can why 
 I thought it best to do this hard thing for both of 
 us. In the mean while I can trust you to make it 
 easier for me by being patient ? " 
 
 Cecil winked twice, and his sensitive face was 
 screwed up into a queer little frown of resolution, 
 but presently he forced a smile. 
 
 " Yes, dad, you can," said he, firmly. 
 
 " Thank you. You're a gentleman, Cis." His 
 father said it very low, because the wagon-wheels 
 were grating against the platform ; nevertheless, 
 the words tingled through Cecil's heart, giving him 
 a warm, happy feeling, which would come for 
 weeks after whenever he recalled them. 
 
 " This is my son Cecil," he heard his father's 
 voice say in louder tones. He took off his cap and 
 bowed — first, to the one-armed man ; next, to the 
 slim little dark-eyed girl. Then he held out his 
 
COUSIN CECIL. 19 
 
 hand to the boy, all the while acutely conscious that 
 his father was wringing the one-armed man's hand 
 with an extraordinary cordiality. 
 • " You're Alan, I suppose," said Cecil, politely. 
 " I'm glad to meet you." 
 
 " Yes, I'm Alan," said the boy, grinning in the 
 rudest way, Cis thought ; " that's Sally. Do you re- 
 member this cap ? " He touched the sealskin cap 
 on his head, and looked vaguely disappointed at Ce- 
 cil's look of bewilderment. " You sent it to me last 
 Christmas, you know." 
 
 " Oh, yes," said Cecil. He remembered buying 
 it with his father one happy, happy afternoon in 
 the London shops ; with the Tower in the morning 
 for another recollection ; best of all, dad quite to 
 himseK the whole day. He felt his throat aching 
 again. 
 
 Trying to force his composure back, he exam- 
 ined his new cousins, who were quite as busy with 
 his appearance. 
 
 Cecil saw a girl of fourteen in a perfectly neat 
 and comfortable brown frock, with a trim httle 
 brown jacket and a pretty brown hat ; but this pre- 
 mature man of fashion stamped the whole costmne 
 as " awfully country " in an instant. He was more 
 favorably impressed with her appearance. Her silky 
 
20 WE ALL. 
 
 black hair hung in two thick braids down her back. 
 Her face had the charming oval shape which is 
 common in Arkansas, and she had the dark, velvety 
 Arkansas eyes, with their curling long lashes and 
 beautiful brows. Cecil admired the delicate pallor 
 of her skin, her scarlet lips and flashing teeth, 
 though he considered her mouth too large. Cis, at 
 fifteen, was fastidious and esteemed himself a judge 
 of ladies' charms. 
 
 The boy was dismissed with the slightest glance 
 in the world : a stolid, square-figured, freckle-faced, 
 red-haired youngster, whose wide blue eyes stared 
 persistently at every motion of the stranger's, and 
 who chewed gum cheerfully while he stared. 
 
 On their side, Ally and Sally saw a handsome, 
 gray-haired gentleman, whose air of distinction was 
 marked enough to impress even a child, and a lad 
 who resembled his father in the light, erect figure 
 and clear gray eyes, but who had other lines in his 
 pale face. 
 
 Sally, being a woman-child, had noted at once 
 the little elegant details of both travelers' toilets — 
 from the slender umbrella in its silk case and the 
 alHgator-skin traveling-bag, which lay on the plat- 
 form, to Cecil's immaculately brushed knicker- 
 bockers and shining shoes. Alan, however, only 
 
COUSIN CECIL. 21 
 
 til ought what an awful shame it was to keep such 
 a big boy " in stockings and short pants ! " and be- 
 gan to revolve a scheme for rigging Cis out in some 
 of the store trousers. "They're long, anyhow," 
 said Alan to himself. 
 
 By this time the elders had finished their private 
 conference, and Mr. Eaimund was asking them all 
 to look at his car before they went away. 
 
 A private car would hardly impress a 'New York 
 or Chicago boy, but to our simple plantation young- 
 sters, who had been awe-sl^uck by the splendors of 
 an ordinary Pullman, during their few journeys, 
 this gorgeous room was a palace on wheels, hke 
 nothing outside the fairy-books. 
 
 The blue plush curtains, shot through with gold 
 threads, the dainty china glittering in the sideboard, 
 the carved wood, the resplendent lamps, and, per- 
 haps, quite as much as anything, the marvelous little 
 kitchen, where the white-capped cook was busy 
 among his beautiful copper pots, threw their child- 
 ish souls into a kind of daze of admiration. 
 
 " You will have a glass of wine with me, old 
 man ? " said Mr. Eaimund. 
 
 And it was just like the Arabian Kiglits, Sally 
 and Alan thought, where you rub a ring and lo, a 
 genius at your elbow with your wish ! — instantly a 
 
22 WE ALL. 
 
 black man, in smart uniform of blue and gold, 
 appeared bearing a salver, sparkling with glasses 
 and ice. Tlie children's enraptured eyes could rec- 
 ognize a bottle, the neck of which had a shimmer of 
 gold, and a glass jug, and a plate of cake, beautiful 
 to behold. 
 
 " Cis thought his cousins might like a glass of 
 lemonade and some cake," said Mr. Eaimund, smil- 
 ing very kindly on the pair. 
 
 " I suppose, now," he added to Colonel Seyton, 
 touching Alan on the shoulder, "that you have 
 trained him to ride, shoot, and tell the truth, like 
 the ancient Persians." 
 
 " As we say in Arkansas, nearly 'bout," answered 
 Colonel Seyton, laughing ; " you might add driving. 
 He is going to drive us back." 
 
 Mr. Eaimund glanced out of the window at the 
 horses' mud-coated legs. 
 
 " I trust you are to sit on the driver's seat," said 
 he. Colonel Seyton assured him of Alan's pru- 
 dence. Then the talk drifted off to other topics. 
 There was something which keen-eared Sally caught 
 about a new mill. Mr. Eaimund had heard that 
 her father wanted to build a new gin. He seemed to 
 be offering to lend him money. " Why not, Dick ? " 
 he said, quite eagerly ; " it's just an investment." 
 
COUSIN CECIL. 23 
 
 " Well, sir," laiiglied tlie colonel, " to tell you the 
 truth, I've just lifted the last of my debts, and I 
 want to have the luxury of being a free man for a 
 while." 
 
 Then their voices sank, and Sally was burdened 
 in her conscience with a sudden sense of responsi- 
 bility to this new cousin at whom Ally sat staring 
 as happily and miconcernedly as if he had been a 
 circus-show — of wliich, indeed, it appeared the 
 whole establishment reminded Master Ally. 
 
 " Say," said he, at the first pause, addressing 
 Cecil, " did you ever go to Barnum's ? " 
 
 " Barnum's ? Barnum's circus ? " said Cecil. 
 " I'm not sure ; I think I did one year, in Chicago. 
 I like the theatre better, don't you ? " 
 
 " I never went to a theatre," said Ally, " but 
 mamma has told me about them. It's just folks 
 talking and pretending — no horses or animals or 
 even somersets — I don't reckon I'd like it. But 
 Barnum's splendid! This car looks like his." 
 
 " Only its nicer," said polite Sally. 
 
 " Oh, thank you very much," said Cecil, with 
 rather a queer accent ; " won't you let me show it to 
 you?" 
 
 He did the honors most courteously, Sally 
 tried to be enthusiastic, but there was a cold dash to 
 
2i WE ALL. 
 
 lier sentiment. Did Cecil live always in sucli 
 luxury ? She thought of her own home, the stately 
 old mansion of the Seytons, which the last Seytons 
 had been far too poor to keep in its original pomp. 
 How would it seem to him ? 
 
 " And you go everywhere with your father in 
 this car ? " she said, timidly, still with the burden 
 of politeness on her mind. 
 
 "It's his car," said Cecil, carelessly; "all rail- 
 road men have cars. Oh, yes ; w^e have friends, 
 too, sometimes. Sometimes mamma comes with 
 her friends. Then it's an awful nuisance — the 
 maids and all, you know. There are a couple of 
 gentlemen with papa, now, but they went on down 
 to Little Rock." He stopped short and grew a 
 little paler. 
 
 " Oh, there's another train coming ! " shouted 
 Alan, who was near a window. 
 
 " It is to take our car," said Cecil, quietly ; then 
 he smiled bravely up at his father's look. 
 
 In a moment the parting was over. The black 
 man had bundled Cecil's luggage into the wagon. 
 Hurriedly Cecil had kissed his father; hurriedly 
 the two friends had shaken hands. There was the 
 glimpse of a head out of a window, a waving of 
 hands, the last look in his father's eyes — ah! it 
 
COUSIN CECIL. 25 
 
 was all gone ; only the horses splashing reckless- 
 ly through the mud and the forest, and these 
 strange uncouth people, and the lump tight in his 
 throat ! 
 
 But no matter how miserable a boy may be, he 
 must care for his hfe ; and very soon it seemed to 
 Cecil that they were in imminent peril. 
 
 All trace of a road had disappeared. Before 
 them, to the right and the left, was nothing but 
 water under the trees. Yet Alan drove confidently 
 along, and, from the continuous jolting and bump- 
 ing, Cecil argued that there must be ground of 
 some kind beneath. Sally, who had di\dned his 
 feelings, and pitied him as much as she dared pity 
 such a superior sort of young being, rephed to the 
 consternation in his face. 
 
 " It's lucky there's only soft mud to-day ! " she 
 said, " and there's a right good, hard corduroy un- 
 derneath. It's when we get past, on to the bad road 
 where the holes are, that's it bad.' ' 
 
 " Oh, there's worse, then ? " said Cecil, gloomily. 
 
 " I reckon there is," answered Alan with enthu- 
 siasm. " It's nothing driving here ; but just you 
 wait till we get past Aunt Yalley Lemew's old 
 place ! It's hke falling off a table, the holes are 
 so big." 
 
26 WE ALL. 
 
 " And we have a ford, too — a big ford," added 
 Sallj, proudly. 
 
 " Is this your only road to the railroad ? " Cecil 
 asked, after a pause of dismay. 
 
 "Well, practically, yes," said Colonel Seyton ; 
 " but the road is good enough three fourths of the 
 year." 
 
 Cecil tried to divert himself by studying the 
 scenery. The swamp stretched all about him. 
 Trees of strange and grotesque growth, such as he 
 had never seen, rattled their huge branches above 
 the morass. Soft, green moss, was thick on some 
 of them. On the surface of the water a pale-green 
 brier interlaced and bristled. He saw a small tree 
 to the right, that was spattered with berries, red 
 like blood. Great shrubs, bare of stalk, but sur- 
 mounted by black plumes, stood among the giant 
 trees. On either side the road made a watery path 
 through the forest. 
 
 Colonel Seyton pointed out the cypress trees 
 and knees. " And that tree with warts on it 
 and the limbs growing so low down ? " said 
 Cecil. 
 
 " A good description," said the colonel. " That 
 is a hackberry-tree. There is a tupelo-gum; see 
 the swell-butt, like the cypress, but no knees. They 
 
COUSIN CECIL. 27 
 
 used to make bowls and platters out of tupelo-gum. 
 Well, here is tlie ford." 
 
 Cecil, in liis own mind, called it a river. 
 
 Alan twisted in Lis seat to smile and reassure 
 the guest. 
 
 "Looks big, but it's got a good bottom," said 
 he; "better h'ist your feet up, sis. — Say, Cousin 
 Cecil, won't you have a chew of gum? I got a 
 fresh piece." 
 
 This was a very long speech for Alan to make 
 to a stranger. His father and sister appreciated the 
 courteous motive; but Cecil only noticed how he 
 held the horses with his left hand while his ri^lit 
 tugged at his pocket. Being like most boys' pock- 
 ets, it was inconveniently full. 
 
 " He will certainly spill us," thought Cecil, yet 
 he could not but admire the nerve of the young 
 savage, as he called poor Ally. 
 
 " 'No, thank you," said he hastily, much relieved 
 when Ally turned again. 
 
 " The water did not quite get into the wagon, 
 neither did the horses quite have to swim ; but 
 that is the best you can say about tlie ford." So 
 Cecil described their passage in a letter to his 
 father. 
 
 He was glad when they were on the corduroy 
 
28 WE ALL. 
 
 again, but lie did not wince ; he was not going to 
 let these barbarous children laugh at him. 
 
 "Do you have much shooting here, Colonel 
 Seyton ? " he asked, with his httle man-of-the-world 
 air. 
 
 ""Well, a bit," answered the colonel, his eye 
 twinkling ; " wild turkeys, deer, now and then a 
 wild-hog hunt. Ally can tell you of some good 
 sport, I reckon." 
 
 " I'll teach you to shoot," Ally rapped out 
 eagerly ; " you can have my gun." 
 
 " Thank you," answered Cecil, " I have brought 
 my gun." 
 
 " And I expect you shoot, too," said Sally. 
 
 " I have been shooting for five years," said Cecil 
 with great dignity. 
 
 Ally, who should properly have been discon- 
 certed, burst into a laugh. 
 
 " Oh, what a joke ! " said he. " Sis and I put it 
 up you couldn't shoot or ride or anything, and she 
 was going to teach you to row and lend you her 
 boat. Say, can you ride and row ? " 
 
 " I thought I could," said Cecil, his dignity una- 
 bated, while Colonel Seyton, on the front seat, 
 chuckled in his sleeve, and Sally looked distressed. 
 
 " Oh, we're so sorry we made such a mistake," 
 
COUSIN CECIL. 29 
 
 said she. But Alan continued to regard tlie mistake 
 as a joke. 
 
 " Never you mind, you sliall lend me your gun, 
 then," said he, with the broad smile that Cecil was 
 beginning to think odious. Sally, he said to him- 
 self, really was a niceish little girl. 
 
 " There's Aunt Valley's old house, and there's 
 the bad road," said Colonel Seyton, claiming all 
 their attention. 
 
CHAPTEE II. 
 
 They were passing a ruined hovel that had sunk 
 backward off its rotting props into the swamp. 
 
 " Did anybody ever live in such a hole ? " said 
 Cecil. 
 
 " Lived in it and will have to pay rent for it, I 
 fear. — Look out for the holes, boy." 
 
 Though Cecil was a brave lad, he felt his heart 
 in his throat. 
 
 They appeared to be in a veritable quagmire. 
 The horses would plunge into great holes and the 
 wagon lurch after them. 
 
 Yet Alan calmly pulled and shouted in his boy- 
 ish treble, and guided the panting, struggling beasts 
 in a zigzag course until the firm land was reached. 
 
 Cecil drew a long breath. " You do drive very 
 well," said he. 
 
 " That's not a much bad road," said Ally, simply. 
 
THE OLD "CONJURE- WOMAN." 31 
 
 " Look, there's Aunt Yalley and the mules ! — IIow- 
 dy ? Aunt Yallej, howdy ? " 
 
 All three saluted a bent black woman, who hob- 
 bled through a gate to the roadside. 
 
 She was, it seemed to Cecil, the very blackest ne- 
 gress that he had ever seen. She wore a piece of 
 flour-sack for a turban, and the grotesqueness of her 
 rolling eyeballs, wide nostrils, and hollow cheeks was 
 enhanced by a pair of brass ear-rings. The ragged 
 apron of jean, and the faded print skirt and but- 
 tonless blue woolen "bass" (as the negroes call a 
 basque) did not consort on equal terms with the fin- 
 ery above, but, to make amends, around her gaunt 
 black neck sparkled a string of amber beads. 
 
 A fit background for this weird figure was the 
 wretched cabin, with its " stick-and-dirt chimney," 
 its beetling roof, and yawning pillars. Behind two 
 great gum-trees it seemed slinking out of sight, yet 
 scowling at the same time, like a beggar who resents 
 the charity by which he lives. 
 
 " Howdy, cunnel ? " said the old woman, calmly. 
 She almost smiled on Ally. " Howdy, boss ? how- 
 dy, missy ? Is you all done lieerd the news ? " 
 
 " What news. Aunt Yalley ? " said Sally. 
 
 Aunt Yalley chewed at her snuif-stick before 
 she answered; "Wall, Unk Josep' Peat, he came 
 
32 WE ALL. 
 
 by yere, a spell ago back, and he been tellin' of it 
 t' me. Hit's awful, ain't it ? " 
 
 " Awful ! What ? " cried both the young Sey- 
 tons in a breath. 
 
 " Waal, he did say, the Ku-klux ben out agin, 
 las' night — " 
 
 " That's nonsense," Colonel Seyton interrupted. 
 " There aren't any more Ku-klux in the coun- 
 try." 
 
 " Den dar come some new ones," persisted the 
 negress ; " sayd dey been out all night warnin' all 
 de niggers to light out, mighty briefly, an lebe 
 deir homes an' 'sessions ; firing guns an' pistils 
 f row de houses ; sayd dey done kill Sis Pearl 
 Hotchkiss, plum daid." 
 
 This speech, which Aunt Yalley delivered in a 
 plaintive monotone, dragging her last words negro 
 fashion, produced a visible efiect on the party. 
 
 Cecil alone was not surprised, because the state 
 of things described was precisely his innocent no- 
 tion of Arkansas. How wise he esteemed himself 
 to have carried his revolver — now uncomfortably 
 weighing down his inside pocket ! 
 
 But the residents took matters less coolly. Con- 
 sternation and horror were painted on Sally's face. 
 Colonel Seyton looked very stern, and even the 
 
THE OLD "CONJURE- WOMAN." 33 
 
 stolid Ally puckered liis moutli into an inaudible 
 whistle of dismay. 
 
 " Stuff ! " said Colonel Seyton ; " lie's fooling 
 you." 
 
 Aunt Yalley rubbed a gnarled and wrinkled 
 hand slowly down her knee, shaking her head. 
 Two of the tight little braids, in which the negroes 
 keep their w^ool, stuck out under her turban Hke 
 horns. 
 
 " Looked like he wudn't be a-foolin'," she said, 
 meekly — all the same there was a keen look from 
 the tail of her eye. " He ben a perfessin' mem- 
 ber, an' he did seem p'intedly w^uked up." 
 
 " How many men did he say were out ? " 
 
 " I doan rightly unnerstan' he did see any his- 
 sef, but dey all done come t' his place a-rarin' an' 
 chargin', makin' noise like a army wid bananas, he 
 sayd — " 
 
 " Army with bananas — what in thunder ! Oh, I 
 reckon you mean banners ? " 
 
 Aunt Yalley revealed her full stature, being 
 really a tall woman when she stood straight. She 
 answ^ered in a very dignified manner — for none of 
 us like to be corrected in our language : " I ain't 
 'sponsible, sah, fo' Brer' Peat's talkin's. Dat like 
 he call 'em. Sayd dey holler an' shoot deir guns 
 
34 WE ALL. 
 
 an' pistils, an' in tlie malmin', by sun-up, wlien he 
 hairten liissef nuff t' git out, lie seen a big notus 
 stuck on dej all's sycamore-tree a-warnin' all de 
 culled folkses to lebe de kentry fo' de week's 
 endin'." 
 
 " Did you see the notice ? " said the col- 
 onel. 
 
 J^o, Aunt Yalley hadn't seen it herself; how 
 could she see it, poor old black nigger woman, 
 never knowing nothin' until Brer' Peat come by 
 and tell her ? But Brer' Peat done fetched the no- 
 tice to the store. " An' dar," said Aunt Yalley, 
 " he met up wid a right smart o' culled pussons a 
 fleein' from de wrath to come. Dey all sayd de 
 same tale — ^how dey come to deir haouses hollerin' 
 wid all de power an' shootin' guns ; an' dey find no- 
 tus, too, in de mahnin' ! Yes, sah." 
 
 " Who were they all ? " 
 
 "Waal — Solomon, you fool mule, want out, 
 does ye ? Come yere, right straight. Sneakin' off 
 dat way ! Ye isn't sharp nuff t' cut me I Come by ! 
 You heah me ? " 
 
 To Cecil's amazement the biggest mule, quite a 
 little space down the road, turned obediently at the 
 word and trotted up to Aunt Yalley. She picked 
 an ear of corn from her apron and put it in his 
 
THE OLD "CONJURE-WOMAN." 35 
 
 moutli. Tlie otlier mules eyed this interesting epi- 
 sode wistfully, but did not stir. 
 
 " I got 'em riglit well trained up, I is dat," said 
 Aunt Yalley. " Dey all follers at de wud o' com- 
 mandment like sojers. — Heali, you Abram Linkun, 
 you twurn, now." Abram Linkun approached, 
 received his corn, and retired in good order. 
 
 The children were more pleased than Colonel 
 Seyton by such by-play; he impatiently repeated 
 his question. But the obstinate old woman must 
 have her own way. 
 
 " Cayn't be pa'shal nohow t' dese animiles," she 
 grunted ; " dey got heap mo' feelings t' be hurted 
 nur f olkses got. Melodeon ! J[f<?lodeon ! how come 
 you doan' hark t' me better ? " 
 
 Melodeon, with positively a dejected air, like a 
 boy caught in gross inattention, came up for his 
 portion. Aunt Yalley patted him. Then she 
 made a gesture toward the mules. 
 
 " Dey ain't but tree er dem, now," said she, with 
 an indescribable quiver of her hard face. 
 
 " Wliat ! " cried Colonel Seyton, " did that— ur 
 — Dawsey get Mr. Henderson ? " 
 
 She nodded, clinching her fist. 
 
 "De co't reward him. Dat a way he call it. 
 Got my mule fo' de rent he solum promnms me I 
 8 
 
36 WE ALL. 
 
 doan hab nebber to pay. ITev' mind ; I'se po' old 
 black nigger an' lie great rich w'ite man, but I'se 
 sharp nufi t' cut him yet. My Lord, I swar I do 
 it ! I swar I be to him like de wolveses * to de 
 sheep. I will! I will!" 
 
 While the negress was speaking, her repressed 
 fury worked in her until it burst the flimsy mask of 
 composure. Blind to her audience, apparently, her 
 great eyes glowed like live coals, her voice swelled 
 into the harshness and volume of a man's, her bent 
 figure straightened, and the com in her skirt tum- 
 bled in a yellow heap over the ground as she swung 
 both her arms above her head with swift, impas- 
 sioned motions, screaming : " Ya'as ! ya'as ! ya'as ! my 
 Lord, he got my Mist' Henderson, dat I done raised 
 from a teenty colt, de sharpes', bigges', stronges' ur 
 dem all. He got him pullin' de stalk cutter, so dirty 
 an' ga'nted ; f an' him, him a-drivin' him, hollerin' 
 an' sw'arin' — beatin' dat good, willin' mule wid de 
 whip ! Oh, my Lord, I sw'ar I nebber quit hearin' 
 dem blows 'twell I pay dat w'ite t'ief aout ! " 
 
 Suddenly her wrath collapsed into a groan of 
 
 * Aunt Valley meant, not wolves the animals, but a species 
 of tick which burrows in sheep and horses' skins causing them 
 almost mortal irritation and pain. 
 
 t Gan'ted. Thin. 
 
THE OLD "CONJURE-WOMAN." 37 
 
 pain as her features twisted and slie bent over 
 nearly donble, both hands gripping her back. 
 
 " De mizry ketch me jes dar, ef I stan' straight," 
 she moaned ; " bnt I plumb f orgit ever' ting on 
 earth, w'en I git studjin' bout dat. Gunnel, you 
 been axin' of me questing, sah ? " 
 
 " At the store ? Who all came to the store ? " 
 
 Aunt Yalley ran over haK a dozen names wliich 
 sounded very queer to Cecil. " Everybody seems to 
 be an uncle or an aunt or a brother or an old man, 
 South," thought he. 
 
 " "Who told Peat any one was killed ? " the colo- 
 nel questioned. 
 
 Aunt Yalley didn't rightly know. 
 
 " Was any one else hurt ? " 
 
 She 'lowed not. The only colored person dast 
 look out been Mark Looney. He said there been 
 rising of six of them "all wid w'ite maskes like 
 hants "^ — turrible to see." 
 
 " Did they come to you. Aunt Yalley ? " said the 
 colonel. 
 
 " ISTaw, sah," said Aunt Yalley. 
 
 " Well, I'll look it up. Good—" 
 
 " I ain't sayin' I didn't see suthin^ yestiddy night, 
 sah." 
 
 * Hants (i. e., haunts) is the common negro name for ghosts. 
 
38 WE ALL. 
 
 " Ah," said tlie colonel, '' that puts another face 
 on it. Well?" 
 
 " Dis yere young gen'lman, who he ? " A mis- 
 shapen black hand wavered in the air before 
 Cecil. " Boss an' missy, dey Se}i;ons, but who 
 he am ? " 
 
 "Oh, he won't give you away, Aunt Yalley," 
 said Alan, and Sally added with a flush and her 
 head a little higher in the air, " He's our cousin." 
 
 " Then I knows well nuff I'se safe," was Aunt 
 Yalley's comment. "Wa'al, the way on't been, I 
 bein' by my lone, habin' no man pusson t' gyard of 
 me " — Here Colonel Seyton had some ado to smoth- 
 er a chuckle, it being common gossip that Aunt 
 Yalley's husband had lived in abject fear of her, 
 and finally fled outright, because she used to tie him 
 up all the next day, did he come back too late at 
 night or not quite sober, while her favorite remon- 
 strance was slapping him in the face with the dish- 
 rag. Yery well did the colonel remember Uncle 
 Hobson's plaint : " I knows I does aggererawate an' 
 rile Yalley, an' I makes 'lowances an' f orgibs de dish- 
 water trowed at me befo' it rightly did get cool. 
 An' I f orgibs de dish-rag ; but dis bein' strained er 
 my liberty, dat ain't whut I gwine stan' no mo', ef 
 Yalley Icin cook a mighty fine meal er vittles. 
 
THE OLD "CONJURE-WOMAN." 39 
 
 Dar's mo' dan vittles an' eatin' in dis life, an' Yalley 
 an' me got t' pjart." 
 
 Unconscious Aunt Yalley went on witli lier nar- 
 rative. She said, being by her lone " dat away," it 
 was her habit to lock her doors every night ; and, 
 last night hearing " sorter rumling noise," and being 
 afraid that her chickens might " pale out " of the 
 garden (that is, escape through the fence " pahngs "), 
 she rose and opened her door. By the moonlight she 
 saw Dawsey riding by on his big clay-bank horse. 
 
 *' I jes natchelly ben struck^'' said Aunt Yalley, 
 " kase it ben by de light o' de moon, an' de moon 
 doan be up twell nigh mahnin' now. But I knowed 
 him f o' sho'. I know dem hunch wethers * o' hisn. 
 
 * How come you does be out so late \ ' says I." 
 
 Aunt Yalley made her speech dramatic by going 
 through her experience, as one acting it again ; she 
 flung out her hand, and drew back her body, and 
 scowled, after an imaginary Dawsey. !N'ow she 
 whirled on her feet. " I look back at de house over 
 yander ; dar de light a-burnin' bright. Says I, 
 
 * You onery murderin' Dawsey, you aim play a bhn' 
 caff on somebody, dat sho' — " 
 
 "A blind calf does she mean?" Cecil asked 
 Sally, very low. 
 
 * Shoulders. 
 
4:0 WE ALL. 
 
 Sally was absorbed in Aunt Yalley's narration, 
 but she instantly explained, at length, that to play 
 a blind calf was to sell a blind caK for a good one, 
 hence to play any trick. " To do you any kind of 
 meanness, you know," said Sally. 
 
 " Oh, yes, thank you," said Cecil, instantly con- 
 cluding that it was a country of tricks, and resolved 
 to be warily on his guard. 
 
 Unaware of the impression that she had unwit- 
 tingly given her cousin, Sally turned all her interest 
 back on Aunt Yalley, who was now relating how she 
 was awakened from a dream of the judgment-day and 
 a bHssf ul vision of Dawsey being pitclif orked by 
 small fiends "jes little tricks er debbils, you all 
 "unnerstans," out of his grave ; " an' all de grabe-stuns 
 a-blowin' sky west and crooked." Aunt Yalley 
 illustrated her words with wild gestures. " An' de 
 las' trump a-blowin' an' a goin' ! An' den, ef you 
 please, I did wake up, an' it didn't ben nuffin' but 
 Melodeon ! Dat Melodeon does got a lubbly strong 
 voice." 
 
 Nevertheless, Aunt Yalley rose and opened the 
 door to see " wlmt got Melodeon," and again she saw 
 Dawsey riding furiously ; this time, toward his house 
 as the other time he had been riding away. She saw 
 him plainly. 
 
THE OLD "CONJURE-WOMAN." 41 
 
 " Did lie wear a mask ? " asked Colonel Sejton. 
 
 " E"aw, sail." 
 
 "Did you watch liim?" 
 
 "In cose. Twell lie ride froo lie own gate." 
 
 "And was the light burning?" 
 
 "Ya'as, sah. Den hit go out." 
 
 " Well, I reckon I must look into things," said 
 the colonel. 
 
 He gave a sign to Ally. The horses sprang 
 forward. Cecil's last vision of the old negro 
 woman showed lihn her gaunt black figure mov- 
 ing about the cotton-field behind the house, the 
 three mules following, dog-hke, at her heels. 
 
CHAPTEE III. 
 
 LABET. 
 
 There was no longer any stiffening of the 
 joints of conversation. Botli tlie young Seytons' 
 tongues were running at once. 
 
 They rattled a fusillade of question and com- 
 ment at their father, who between his answers 
 contrived to help Cecil to a new notion of Ark- 
 ansas. 
 
 He was astonished to discover how peaceful, 
 honest, free from violence, was the supposed home 
 of carnage and the bowie-knife. 
 
 " "Why," declared the colonel, " I haven't 
 known a man killed in ^yq years. Twenty years 
 ago, maybe — Oh, well, I'm not talking about 
 twenty years ago, or during the ' gray-back ' times ; 
 it's now, the hving present, as the poet calls it. 
 And honest, I assure you, Cecil, Aunt Yalley is 
 the only person in the bottom who feels bound to 
 lock up at night, and she" — the colonel chuckled 
 
LARRY. 43 
 
 — " she liasn't got a key on eartli — calls it locking 
 up wlien she turns tlie button. That is what puz- 
 zles me about this racket. "We haven't any tough 
 characters in the neighborhood. The race ques- 
 tion doesn't amount to a row of pins here, where 
 the whites outnumber the negroes. It must be 
 either a wild hoax or some personal enmity to 
 me." 
 
 "Why to you, Colonel Seyton?" 
 
 "Because they are all my tenants. "We had a 
 large crop tliis year, and dirty weather in Octo- 
 ber. The cotton-j)ickers who come down every 
 year from Missouri got discouraged and lit out, as 
 we say. Kow, it will take all hands to pick the 
 rest of the cotton before Christmas. If they can 
 scare off my tenants, I am likely to lose a heap 
 of my cotton before I can get it to the gin. Be- 
 sides, there are the farms standing empty. A bad 
 lookout all round, you understand." 
 
 "Well, I know who did it," spoke up Sally, 
 whose cheeks were flushed like a wild rose, with 
 her excitement. 
 
 "ISTo, you don't hiow, sis," said Ally; "you 
 can't TcnowP Ally had gleams of the canny Scotch- 
 man. 
 
 " Wen, I'm sure as sure. It's that hateful old 
 
44 WE ALL. 
 
 man Dawsey. He is always trying to do us a 
 meanness." 
 
 " Cobb did say lie put ground glass in Spider's 
 oats," Ally remarked, musingly. 
 
 " Well, we won't say he did it until we know," 
 said the colonel, getting his one arm over the back 
 seat, the better to pat Sally's shoulder— " that is, 
 outside. This is eonfidential." 
 
 " Sure," said Ally. 
 
 "Certainly, Colonel Seyton," said Cecil. 
 
 Sally only squeezed her father's hand and 
 rubbed his bare wrist against her rose-leaf cheek. 
 
 "They are like dad and me," Cecil thought, 
 with a Httle contraction of the heart, a homesick 
 craving for a sight of the dear figure that every 
 minute w^as bearing swiftly farther and farther 
 away from him. 
 
 Yet I believe it was from this instant that he 
 began to like Sally. 
 
 "Who is Mr. Dawson, please?" said he, di- 
 verting his thoughts with the nearest pretext. Why 
 need he be such a baby as to w^ant to cry every 
 time he thought of dad? 
 
 "Dawsey," said the colonel — '''Dawsey, Well, 
 he is the man who enjoys the undisputed title of 
 the meanest man in the country. He lives a little 
 
LARRY. 
 
 45 
 
 way farther on. "Wlien lie bouglit the farm, tlicrc 
 was a fine orchard. He cut down every tree, and 
 turned it into a cotton-field, because the boys took 
 his peaches. He owned that old wood-pile in the 
 woods. It isn't what you would call a commodi- 
 ous dwelling, is it? And a man died of hydro- 
 phobia there, to the bargain. He died in such an 
 awful way, nobody would live in the house. But 
 old Aunt Yalley's cabin burned down, and she is 
 suspected of being a conjure-woman herself — " 
 
 " I beg pardon ? " from Cecil. 
 
 " May be you all would call her a witch. She 
 protests that she is only a bone-setter and a ^ yarl) 
 doctor,' but, being a cross-grained old woman, with 
 trained mules, you can't expect people to let her ojff 
 so easily. No, sir, the niggers, hereabouts, are per- 
 suaded that she threw lizards into old Aunt Crecy 
 Miller. And they think her husband ran away be- 
 cause she tried to conjure him. "Well — never mind 
 all that — at any rate, not being social like most 
 darkeys, she didn't mind living alone ; and she says, 
 furthermore, that Dawsey promised her the house 
 and land, rent free, she only agreeing to plant corn 
 for his stock. He claims she promised to pay fif- 
 teen dollars a year and one third of her crop. And 
 he showed a contract to that effect. She stayed 
 
46 WE ALL. 
 
 there two years, then he came down for the rent of 
 his house and six acres, declaring that he had not 
 been paid a cent. She says she only cultivated 
 three acres and helped put the other three in corn 
 for his stock, and that when she signed the con- 
 tract, she thought it was to release her from any 
 other liability. She can write her name, but can't 
 read writing. The court, however, was bound by 
 the evidence, and the contract held good. So he 
 got a judgment for two years' rent and distrained 
 her mule." 
 
 "Yes, and he took poor Mrs. Whitehead's 
 cows," cried Sally ; "his dogs were forever chasing 
 her cows and making them wild, and one day she 
 took down her gun when she saw the dog after her 
 cows — they were just naturally coming into the 
 yard — and she shot the dog. He was the meanest 
 dog, awful big and fierce ; he nearly killed off 
 poor Henri, our dog, the cutest dog you ever 
 saw — " 
 
 "He just naturally would have killed Henri," 
 interrupted Ally, " only sis chucked a heap of pep- 
 per in his eyes. Wish I'd been there to hear him 
 holler!" 
 
 Sally waved the interruption aside. " And 
 then, if you please, Mr. Dawsey got the constable 
 
LARRY. 47 
 
 and swore lies, and papa and mamma were away at 
 Rowan Mountain, and lie got that poor woman's 
 two cows and the gun that her husband carried in 
 the war, and she set the whole world by. And one 
 of the poor cows died." 
 
 '' But when papa got home, he fixed him," said 
 Ally, with a grin. 
 
 " Yes, he did ; he got a writ of repletion and the 
 cows back, except one w^as dead ; and it was her pet 
 cow, too." Sally cried, her eyes growing bigger in 
 her indignant sympathy, " but he did have to give 
 up the gun and pay twenty dollars. So that was 
 how he began to hate papa." 
 
 "Oh, they've had a heap of lawsuits since," 
 said Ally. " Cobbs says he's lost nearly 'bout two 
 thousand fighting pa." 
 
 " He's powerful mean, too," said Sally, solemnly. 
 " There was an old colored woman wintered a hen 
 with him, and, when she came for the hen, he said 
 the bill was twenty-five cents, though he promised 
 to keep her for the eggs, and when she offered him 
 the hen for the bill ('cause she's so poor she always 
 has to buy shoes too large for her, 'cause they don't 
 wear out so soon) why, then he wouldn't take it. 
 He made her give him ten cents to boot." 
 
 Cecil tried to restrain his laughter, but seeing 
 
48 .WE ALL. 
 
 the colonel's shaking shoulders was too much; he 
 laughed aloud and merrily. 
 
 " That's right, boj," said the colonel ; then, more 
 gravely : " The worst thing the fellow does is loan- 
 ing out money to poor farmers and merchants on 
 mortgages, wheedling them into believing that he 
 wdll wait several years longer than specified in the 
 note, and then jumping down on the instant there is 
 a day's delay of interest or the time runs out, when, 
 like as not, relying on his promise to renew, they 
 haven't the money." 
 
 A number of tales followed, bearing on this 
 trait of Dawsey. Cruel enough, too, some of them 
 were, with piteous hints of blasted hearthstones and 
 years of denial and struggle, to end only in ruin. 
 
 And there were darker shades to the picture of 
 the Mean Man of the community. Dawsey was no 
 native Arkansan. A bubble in the scum of rapine 
 and murder that war whirls in its caldron, he had 
 been swept into Arkansas with the retreating Mis- 
 souri army. 
 
 Beginning as a sort of sutler, or camp-kite, he 
 remained in the valley a guerrilla, or kite at large. 
 
 He belonged to the infamous Dick Barnabas 
 band. Black River people had a saying that he 
 could never meet old Colonel Rutherford, the exter- 
 
LARRY. 49 
 
 minator of tlie giierrillas, without liis neck growing 
 red under the twist of an imaginary rope. 
 
 " So you see," said Colonel Seyton, smiling, 
 " Dawsey isn't any too squeamish to undertake such 
 a job. He knows how timid the darkeys are, too, 
 and that I am drawn on the grand jury, and have 
 to be off to the Eock to-morrow. It's a scheme, 
 sure enough. Still, he may be as innocent as I am. 
 Here's his place." 
 
 He pointed to the right, where a wide cotton- 
 field shouldered its brown rows out of the swamp. 
 
 The ragged stalks were spattered with white 
 from the " last picking " of cotton. A narrow road 
 had been cut clumsily through the field, disappear- 
 ing behind a row of mulberry-trees. The black, 
 gambrel-roofed house, large apparently, yet either 
 windowless or having barred shutters, therefore the 
 more lonely and forbidding of aspect, gloomed be- 
 hind the trees. It owned a gallery, but about tliis 
 gallery was none of the hospitable disorder of tlie 
 country — no meal-sacks, no saddles, no guns. It 
 might have been a deserted house, for any show of 
 life it gave. A broken chimney leaned perilously 
 away from the walls. 
 
 Yet there were signs of habitation : half a dozen 
 gaunt cows in the road, a cackle of poultry in the 
 
50 WE ALL. 
 
 barn-jard, some sliarp-backed, black swine grunting 
 tbrough. tlie tousle of dead plantain weeds, that, 
 perhaps, had been a garden, and between the mul- 
 berrj-trees and the road a fire of brush, over which 
 was suspended the huge iron kettle of the South. 
 
 While they looked — for Alan had checked the 
 horses — a brown horse, with a white face, rose up 
 behind the fence. " Look at him, all covered with 
 mud, and his hair roughed," said Ally ; " looks like 
 he was out last night." 
 
 The horse hung a dejected head over the fence, 
 and turned an incurious, weary eye upon them. 
 
 " I reckon," said the colonel. 
 
 Cecil noticed that a little human figure had 
 crept into sight from behind the iron pot. It 
 was a boy's figure, barefooted, bareheaded — the 
 hair was white, and tossed by the wind — clothed, 
 hardly covered, by a tattered suit of brown jeans. 
 The child's face, one could see, was thin and pale, 
 but he had eager blue eyes, that stared at the 
 wagon. 
 
 " Howdy, Larry ? " shouted Ally. 
 
 " Howdy, Larry ? " said Sally, nodding. 
 
 "Howdy, boy?" — this was from the colonel — 
 " come on over." The boy darted a timid look at 
 the house ; l)ut he came. He shd one foot up and 
 
LARRY. 51 
 
 down his other leg and stared furtively at the 
 children. 
 
 " Cooking your breakfast ? " said the colonel. 
 
 "Naw, sir. Makin' soap." He had a melan- 
 choly, thin little voice. One would say that he 
 was not older than ten. 
 
 " What did you have for breakfast, Larry, any- 
 how?" 
 
 " ^ary. Hain't had breakfas'," said Larry. 
 
 ''Well— sir/'' 
 
 " He," jerking his little spear of a thumb over 
 his shoulder, "he ain't up yit." 
 
 "Why? IJp late last night at a festival?" 
 said the colonel, grimly ; and then, repenting of 
 questioning a child, he held out a quarter. 
 
 "Well, good-morning, boy; come and see us, 
 if your uncle will let you. — Go on. Ally." 
 
 But Ally was rmnmaging in that bewildering 
 pocket of his; he emerged finally, triumphant, 
 with a hard biscuit, a demoraHzed sHce of cake, 
 and a black lump of gum. 
 
 "There," was Master Ally's breathless com- 
 ment, "put the cracker in, for myself, and took 
 the cake home for ma. May be you can make 
 out for a breakfast with that. The gum's store- 
 gum — fine — good catch ! — G'lang, you 'Kufa." 
 
52 WE ALL. 
 
 This time tlie horses did go — rapidly. 
 
 " Oh, laws ! " was the single answer of the boy ; 
 but he stood still, not attempting to eat, watching 
 the wagon mitil it was out of sight. 
 
 " The rest of the road is all good ; it's on our 
 plantation," said Sally. 
 
 It was good; a fact perceptible in the speed 
 of the horses. 
 
 Soon cabins and farm-houses appeared, then the 
 school-house and the store; at last the high bank 
 of the river, and over the river, among the wooded 
 hills, Cecil could see the tall columns and carved 
 pediment of the porch, the spacious white walls 
 and gabled roof of "the big house." 
 
 The ferry was waiting for them — a flat-boat 
 on a wire rope, with a grinning negro boatman. 
 
 Colonel Seyton instantly demanded the news, 
 receiving Aunt Valley's story with divers infla- 
 tions and adornments, and one important omis- 
 sion : Euf e did not know of any one being killed. 
 
 Across the ferry, they drove swiftly up the ^vind- 
 ing avenue of live-oaks, and at the house-door a slen- 
 der lady, with a sweet smile and bright dark eyes, 
 took Cecil into her soft arms and kissed Mm. 
 
 " The dear boy ! How glad we are to have you ! 
 How much he looks like his father ! " she said. 
 
CHAPTEE TV. 
 
 THE FIRST DAY. 
 
 Cecil was awakened the next morning by a 
 flood of golden light and a rattle of sticks on the 
 hearth. 
 
 For a moment all he could see was a plaided 
 back, and a woolly head framed by the flames that 
 Yance was blowing. He awoke with that dizzy 
 sense of dejection which comes to any one who has 
 forgotten a trouble in sleep, as soon as his oblivion 
 is broken. 
 
 " Oh, yes," he muttered, " I'm here, and dad is 
 gone ! " 
 
 The interest that he had taken yesterday in the 
 novel surroundings, the queer excitement that had 
 met him, the pleasure of distributing his gifts, and 
 the flattery of welcome — somehow, all had dropped 
 flat. Yesterday there was a kind of romance about 
 the old mansion built before the war. One pictured 
 a rude, half -feudal magnificence belonging to those 
 
5^ WE ALL. 
 
 old days wlien every guest was offered his valet and 
 his horse, as he is offered his hot water in the morn- 
 ing nowadays. Cecil was fond of reading stories 
 of knights and ladies and tourneys. He had (al- 
 though he kept it shyly to himself) a great notion 
 of chivalry. He wished that he had been born in 
 time to follow Richard the Lion-hearted to Pales- 
 tine. He wouldn't have run away from him. 
 Never ! Last night there was a faint reminder of 
 his dreams in the stories that he heard. The slaves 
 might serve for retainers, and there were real battles 
 fought within riding distance, where men had been 
 killed; and a duel, and a ghost, and a beautiful 
 distracted lady, with her hair down, figured in 
 the legends. Altogether, Cecil was a good deal 
 cheered ; life was not going to be so commonplace, 
 after all. He was amused at the plantation store ; 
 he thought the old gin picturesque ; he was flattered 
 by Alan and Sally's obvious admiration. 
 
 " It's not half bad, though everything is awfully 
 shabby," thought Master Cecil, condescendingly. 
 
 But, this morning — ^how bare the big room 
 looked ! Its careful neatness could not hide the 
 weather-blotches on the odd old wall-papers, the 
 sunken bricks of the fireplace, the clumsiness of the 
 iron fire-dogs, or the lack of furniture. There were 
 
THE FIRST DAY. 55 
 
 prints from illustrated papers, tastefully enough 
 framed in glossy manila paper with brass tacks, 
 grouped on the wide expanse of wall. The prints 
 were well chosen, the effect was pretty, but the 
 young critic could tell at a glance that they were 
 woodcuts and not etchings; hadn't he brought a 
 fine Yan Elten to Mrs. Seyton and explained to 
 Sally what a remarque proof was ! I fear Mr. 
 Seyton himself did not know before. 
 
 He was aroused by Yance's trundling in a bath- 
 tub and depositing a steaming bucket of water on 
 the carpet, with a cheerful irresponsibiHty as to the 
 result for the carpet, possible only to a negro. 
 
 " Mis' Seyton * lows ye ' like to wash yo'seff like 
 Mist' Ally and missy," said Yance, giving Cecil a 
 view of all his ivory. 
 
 He spent an hour, later, describing to the group 
 in the kitchen (who quite forgot breakfast in their 
 interest) the amazing splendors of the guest's toilet 
 arrangements, his silver-backed brushes, his sponges, 
 his towels, his glass bottles " dat ben cut plum ober 
 like a waffle." 
 
 So impressed was Yance, indeed, that he had fits 
 of abstraction during breakfast, in which he was 
 lost to all outside sounds, gazing and grinning at 
 CecU. 
 
56 WE ALL. 
 
 Cecil was only conscious tliat the service was 
 very queer, particularly when the angry notes of a 
 woman's voice and a sound of thumps and whacks, 
 followed by stifled howls, came in through the 
 passage-way after Yance had retired. 
 
 " Only Aunt Cindy training Yance," the colonel 
 observed, dryly ; " he was uncommonly inattentive 
 this morning." 
 
 The table, Cecil thought, was on a level with the 
 service. He searched his memory of other houses 
 for such cheap crockery or for plated silver ; yet, here 
 and there, an exquisite cut glass dish and one Sevres 
 plate mingled with the common ware. 
 
 " They lost all their silver in the war," sagely 
 concluded Cecil, "and they aren't rich enough to 
 buy more." He pitied them sincerely, if with a 
 dash of condescension in his pity. Keally they 
 were, on the whole, very well-bred people, though 
 — what was it that amusing Englishman called the 
 funny Western Congressman ? — provincial ! Yes, 
 the Seytons were provincial. 
 
 Meanwhile, he politely praised Aunt Cindy's 
 corn-dodgers, eating more than he wished. 
 
 The unconscious colonel smiled on him well 
 pleased, and Mrs. Seyton studied his face with affec- 
 tionate eyes, thinking : " He is just like Jolm. I 
 
THE FIRST DAY. 57 
 
 wish lie hadn't that supercilious mouth, like Kellie 
 Hopkins, but it is John's honest, bright smile." 
 
 The talk, of course, turned on the news of yes- 
 terday. Early as it was. Colonel Se}i:on had been 
 out, riding about the plantation, investigating mat- 
 ters, for two hours. His interviews and explora- 
 tions had confirmed Aunt Yalley's wild tale in the 
 main, except as to Aunt Pearl Hotchkiss, whom he 
 found in robust health, and mightily surprised to be 
 told of her own tragic end. But she too had heard 
 the marauders. They had " swarmed outer the 
 woods, rarin' an' chargin'." She reckoned there 
 been nearly 'bout a hundred of them — anyway, four 
 or five — " 'kase de swag groun' by de pig-pen ben 
 all tromped up." 
 
 'None of the victuns had been hurt. But all 
 were scared beyond sensible speech ; and not one of 
 them had patched together his courage enough to 
 ride to '' de big house " with the news that night. 
 
 It was afternoon ("evening" in the Southern 
 parlance) before they had made their way to the 
 store — some of them already prepared for departure. 
 At the store the colonel found a flock of them, on 
 his return, all in such a state of consternation and 
 excitement that he spent the evening calming them. 
 He had not come home until almost daybreak. 
 
58 WE ALL. 
 
 " And here I am, forced to go off tliis morn- 
 ing," lie exclaimed, with a most unusual irritation, 
 " This comes of trying to be a good citizen ; and 
 not get off the grand jury when I'm drawn. You 
 will have to make out the best you can, Emily. — 
 What's the matter, Yance ? " 
 
 Yance had a folded paper in his hand, and a look 
 of solemn importance on his apish visage. 
 
 " Please, sah. Mist' Morgan he got a telegraph 
 fum de Ridge by de telephone. He done writ it 
 out an' sen' it hup by Lishe. Hit f o' Mis' Seyton, 
 he say, an' he ticklar 'bout she git it." 
 
 The colonel snatched the paper to read the dis- 
 patch, which he instantly handed to his wife, with 
 a loud exclamation. 
 
 Cecil admired beauty in woman. His mother 
 was a pretty woman, who considered herself a beau- 
 tiful one, in which belief she had plenty of encour- 
 agement. He had heard discussions of famous 
 beauties' looks, ever since he was a little fellow in a 
 velvet suit, leaning against his mother's knee and 
 staring at the fine ladies over the tea-tray. He 
 wondered to himself if mamma would call Cousin 
 Emily handsome. At any rate, she had fine eyes 
 and a beautiful, clear skin ; and there was something 
 that won him, something like the cameos and stat- 
 
THE FIRST DAY. 59 
 
 ues, in her broad, low forehead, the way her hair 
 grew back from her brow, and the marking of her 
 eyebrows. While he stared, a flush and a pallor 
 swept over the sweet face. 
 
 " Dick, I must go with you," said she. 
 
 There was an almost imperceptible inclination 
 of Colonel Sey ton's head in Cecil's direction. 
 
 " I shall leave everything with Sally," said Mrs. 
 Seyton, smiling. 
 
 Cecil thought that she had a beautiful smile. 
 
 " I am sure Sally will manage everything," she 
 went on, " and there's Aunt Cinda to see they don't 
 starve and the house doesn't get afire. Indeed, 
 Dick, there's no other way ; I must go with you." 
 
 " Go where ? " cried Alan, in blunt dismay ; 
 while Sally clasped her hands on the table-edge, 
 growing paler. 
 
 " Your Aunt Ernestine is very sick — she is 
 afraid she T\dll die ; and the doctor has sent for 
 me." 
 
 Sally's eyes grew bigger and bigger, and her 
 cheeks grew paler; but Alan did not show much 
 emotion. 
 
 He filled his mouth with wafiles before he re- 
 marked : '^ O Aunt Ernestine ! She's always 'low- 
 ing she's going to die. She got all her kin up to 
 
60 WE ALL. 
 
 Little Eock, last September, 'cause she was going to 
 die ; and she never did die at all." 
 
 " She is a very sick woman, the doctor says, and 
 he asks me to come," said Mrs. Sejton, qnietly. " I 
 don't think my boy would want me to refuse." 
 
 " Yes, ma'am, I would, every time," said Alan, 
 morosely. 
 
 " I had depended on you for this other affair," 
 said Colonel Seyton. 
 
 " You mil have to do as you suggested to me 
 this morning," said Mrs. Seyton. 
 
 She smoothed aw^ay all objections, somehow, so 
 quietly that it hardly seemed that she did it, but 
 rather as if the objectors had thought better of their 
 minds themselves. 
 
 Cecil scarcely realized that she was going — 
 remembering the confusion of hurrying servants, 
 the bustle of leave-taking that attended his ovm 
 mother's departures — until he saw her standing in 
 her traveling-dress, in the great dingy hall, and 
 could hear the negro driver scolding his horses. 
 A moment later only the sound of wheels on the 
 gravel returned to them : the planter and his wife 
 were gone. 
 
 " Well, I'm glad Cobbs ain't gone, too," growled 
 Ally. *' I 'most wish Aunt Ernestine would die and 
 
THE FIRST DAY. Ql 
 
 be done with it ! Slie's always djing." A strong 
 sense of injury grew on liim witli the remembrance, 
 as he continued : " Say, Cecil, what do you think 
 she did when she came to visit mamma, who, she al- 
 ways says, is her favorite niece ? She said I could 
 have a birthday party. She proposed it, and she 
 was going to give me a cake and send to the Kock 
 for ice-cream, truly store ice-cream, in a shape. 
 She's got heaps of money, so she don't care. And, 
 if you please, after the plumb lot of 'em got here, 
 she up and begins dying, and then I had to send 
 every one of 'em home, and the doctor came and — 
 and " — Ally's voice was choked at the dire climax — 
 " Yance and Judy had just got the ice-cream out of 
 the mold, you know, t' fetch it in, and they set it 
 do^Ti to make haste to get her medicines and projict 
 round for her ; and that fool Yance set it down on 
 the stove and it jpluml) melted! Ugh ! I hke Cobbs 
 a heap better. Cobbs says he don't want to die till 
 he must, and then he'll be dead long enough." 
 
 " Who is Cobbs ? " said Cecil. 
 
 Sally explained that Cobbs had been their 
 father's orderly during the war, and was now the 
 plantation blacksmith. But his gifts were not con- 
 fined to the forge. Having been apprenticed to 
 a butcher, he made admirable sausage-meat ; and 
 
62 WE ALL. 
 
 having served a winter in a confectioner's shop, he 
 knew how to freeze ice-cream and decorate cake. 
 He was a fair carpenter, to the bargain, and mended 
 tin-ware. 
 
 " There ain't anything in this world Cobbs can't 
 do if he sets his mind on it," declared Ally, stoutly. 
 " Say, there's no school ; let's go and see him." 
 
 Cecil was ready enough for the walk, so the 
 three sallied forth in search of Cobbs. 
 
 He was not at the smithy. The helper told 
 them that he had gone to see a sick horse (Cobbs 
 was, likewise, a horse-doctor) at the gypsy camp. 
 
 To the gypsy camp, accordingly, they followed 
 Cobbs, walking along the high bank overlooking a 
 cypress slash. 
 
 The canvas wagons, the jaded and rough-coated 
 horses, the blazing camp-fire, and a group of tawny, 
 black-haired children, with enough bits of scarlet 
 and yellow to make their rags picturesque, very 
 soon, told them the situation of the camp. 
 
 A little to the right, a drowsy-looking, muzzled 
 bear was being led up and down by a chain in the 
 hands of a woman. He walked wretchedly on his 
 hind legs, every now and then dropping on all- 
 fours, when the woman would scold him and hit 
 him with a stick. A man lay on the ground, prop- 
 
THE FIRST DAY. 63 
 
 ping liis liead on his hands and smoking a pipe. 
 Occasionally he would give some gruff direction to 
 the woman. 
 
 Cecil surmised that the only white man visible, 
 who was rubbing some kind of liniment on a horse's 
 shoulder, must be the oft-quoted Cobbs. He had 
 expected a giant, but here stood only a round- 
 shouldered, little, thin man, in shabby jeans, with 
 a drooping black mustache and restless, merry black 
 eyes. 
 
 Ally hailed him joyously : " Say, Cobbs ! " 
 
 And Cobbs came forward. He frankly held 
 out his hand at Ally's introduction : " O Cobbs, 
 here's my cousin Cecil, Cousin John Eaimund's 
 boy, you know." 
 
 ""Well, I reckon," said Cobbs; "hope you're 
 well ; and how's you' paw ? " 
 
 There was nothing for Cecil to do but to shake 
 hands with this unpleasantly familiar person, who 
 would have been shown round to the kitchen at 
 home. He felt an inward squirm of disgust ; but 
 he bowed civilly, smiled faintly, and answered that 
 his father was well. 
 
 " I used to know him, you know," said Cobbs, 
 " a right smart while afore you did, I reckon. The 
 cunnel an' me, we nussed him through a mighty 
 
64 WE ALL. 
 
 lively fever. Looked like lie'd give up some days ; 
 but he didn't." 
 
 " My father lias told me about that time," said 
 Cecil; "he gave me a gun for you. I'm very 
 much obliged to you, too," added the boy, rather 
 awkwardly. 
 
 " He's always sendin' of me things," said Cobbs. 
 "I ain't quit wantin' to thank him fur one thing 
 afore another lands on me. And I never did 
 nuthin' special for him neither. "Well, I wild hke 
 to see him ; ain't he comin' to these pyarts, think?" 
 
 " When he comes back from Little Eock, may 
 be," said Cecil. (" Oh, if that were only to-mor- 
 row ! " he thought.) 
 
 "Well, that's splendid. I'll do my best fur 
 you w^hile he's gone. Show ye the kentry and 
 the sports." 
 
 By way of seeing the sports, Cecil inquired 
 about the gypsies and their bear. Cobbs told him 
 that the gypsies, every autumn, passed through the 
 Black Eiver country on their way farther south. 
 
 They would camp for a week or two in the shel- 
 tered ground by the river. During this time they 
 gathered a few dollars by trading mules and horses, 
 the men mending pots and kettles sometimes, and 
 the women telling fortunes. If they had a bear 
 
THE FIRST DAY. 65 
 
 with them, they exhibited his tricks by firehght, at 
 night ; and the neighborhood flocked to see, for 
 amusements were scarce in this primitive society, 
 and valued accordingly. 
 
 "But don't they steal?" asked Cecil, whose 
 ideas of gypsies were about equally lurid and 
 vague. He knew that they stole children and 
 chickens ; but, for fear of ridicule in case he should 
 be wrong, he wasn't going to be too definite. 
 
 Cobbs laughed good-naturedly. Oh, sometimes 
 a fence was short a rail or two, he said, or there 
 didn't appear to be quite as many chickens running 
 around ; but, generally speaking, no, sir, he called 
 them honest. 
 
 " And you don't 'low they had anything to do 
 over there ? " It was Ally who spoke up now ; 
 and, as he spoke, he lowered his voice and jerked 
 his thumb, forestward, over his shoulder. 
 
 Cobbs might have answered had there not oc- 
 curred a very curious interruption. Down the 
 steep bank a big mule came, leaping and stum- 
 bling, and galloped up to the woman ^\\\h the 
 bear. 
 
 The mule's rider was an elderly man, short, 
 but very strongly built, whose gray hair was long 
 enough to blow in the wind, and whose sallow face 
 
QQ WE ALL. 
 
 was clean shaven. He wore a sloncli hat and a suit 
 of cheap clothes, whole and passably clean. There 
 was nothing striking in his appearance except the 
 look of fury in his face. As he rode, he lashed his 
 mule with a cruel thorn-tree branch. He reined in 
 the beast. In a loud tone he demanded (it might 
 be of the woman, it might be of the man), ''Where 
 ye put my boy ? " 
 
 The woman began a voluble disclaimer, but the 
 man interrupted her. " We don't a steal no boys," 
 said he ; " there ben a haK-starved boy coma here, 
 get somfin to eata. We no keep him, Mista Daw- 
 sey." 
 
 Like a flash the man had jumped from his mule 
 and darted round the tent. A shriek met him. 
 
 The woman and man exchanged glances. There 
 was a touch of pity in the woman's. 
 
 The man muttered something in Italian. Only 
 Cecil understood that he said ; " 'No use. It would 
 get us into trouble." 
 
 Almost instantly Dawsey reappeared, dragging 
 after him the same forlorn little boy whom Cecil 
 had seen the day before. The man was lashing the 
 child savagely with the thorn-branch. He seemed 
 beside himself with rage. 
 
 The child hung limply on his arm, neither strug- 
 
>: 
 
 
 '- '^ ■'^■''-'> 
 
THE FIRST DAY. ^7 
 
 gling nor crying, until liis wild eyes fell on the 
 children. As if animated by new strength, the 
 fierce little creature wrenched his head free, and 
 with a swift movement, like that of a rat, sank his 
 teeth into the arm that held him. 
 
 The pain made Dawsey relax his hold. Before 
 his free fist could cHnch and strike, the boy was fly- 
 ing across the " slash." 
 
 Dawsey ran after him. It may be more correct 
 to say that he started to run after him, for Ally 
 Seyton, perceiving the situation, so deftly inter- 
 posed a foot that Dawsey lost his balance and 
 sprawled into the camp fire ; whereupon Ally made 
 off one way as fast as Larry was going another. 
 
 Old Dawsey, raging, vowing horrors for Larry, 
 of which murder was the kindest, picked himself 
 out of the coals and would have given chase. 
 
 " Stoppa, stoppa, man ! " shouted the gypsy ; 
 "you alia fire!" 
 
 Cobbs scooped a panful of soft mud and flung 
 on the burning clothing, an example energetically 
 followed by the gypsies, until the last sign of fire 
 was smothered, and Dawsey was an amazing sight. 
 
 " Quit, ye fools ! " he bawled. Again he set 
 
 off after Larry, but this time Cobbs laid a hand on 
 
 his arm. " Let the boy 'lone, -svill ye ! " said Cobbs. 
 5 
 
68 WE ALL. 
 
 " We all up t' tlie store got sutliin' t' ax of ye. 
 Wliar was ye, night afore las' ? " 
 
 " Lemme go ! I was liome, as I always am." 
 
 But there had been a tell-tale start that Cecil at 
 least, had noticed. " I believe he is lying," he said 
 in a low voice to Sally. 
 
 Sally all this time was a quiet but deeply inter- 
 ested observer. She nodded. 
 
 Dawsey twisted his spattered face and turned 
 his one eye (I fear it was malice made Cobbs fling 
 the cake of mud that had fast closed the other) on 
 the girl and boy. 
 
 He gave them a murderous glance, although he 
 did not speak a word. 
 
 Sally shrank a little ; Cecil returned him a look 
 of contempt. 
 
 " Come, now," Cobbs went on, " folkses are 
 talkin' a right smart 'baout you. Mist' Dawsey. Say 
 ye ben ridin' raound skeerin' up the colored people. 
 Reward's aout of a hundred dollars ; an' cunnel he 
 done gone t' the Rock t' git the Governor issue a 
 proclamation, an' offer a reward. Ye better show 
 whar ye went — an' how come ye didn't git back till 
 nigh sun-up." 
 
 Dawsey winced, but repeated doggedly that he 
 hadn't been away from home, that week. Wlio had 
 
THE FIRST DAY. gg 
 
 seen liim ? — that is, correcting himself, who dared to 
 pretend to have seen him ? 
 
 *' And yon didn't go off down the Summer road 
 to the turn, hay ? " said Cobbs ; '' you' plum sure 
 of that, and you didn't maybe meet up with two or 
 three friends ? " 
 
 " I didn't get outer my bed," Dawsey growled. 
 "I don't know nothin' of no niggers, an' I don't 
 wanter. — A-r-r ! Huh ! " This to the mule, which 
 was fidgeting. He jumped on the beast's back, 
 tlirew a look of sullen anger around the circle, and 
 galloped away into the swamp. 
 
 " He can't catch Larry, now," said Sally, with a 
 sigh of reKef . 
 
 " But isn't Larry his son ? " asked Cecil. 
 
 Larry, however, was not so unfortunate, although 
 he was, in the eye of the law, Dawsey's son, be- 
 cause he had been legally adopted by the old man 
 on the death of his sister, Larry's mother. "Why 
 he adopted the boy had long puzzled the Seytons. 
 Mrs. Seyton, who had been to see " the widow 
 Harkness " during her last sickness, and had carried 
 her stealthily many a little luxury, said that his de- 
 meanor at that time was more human, lie had 
 cared for and protected his sister, after a fashion, 
 although there w^as a horrible rumor that he had 
 
70 WE ALL. 
 
 killed lier husband. There was no doubt that he 
 hated Ruf e Harkness, nor that there had been furi- 
 ous quarrels between the two. And Eufe Harkness 
 was shot on the roadside by an unknown assassin. 
 
 Still, he was not unkind to his sister. He re- 
 laxed his miserliness enough to give her a rude 
 plenty. She was well clothed. In her day, meal- 
 sacks and salted pork were seen in the gallery. 
 The boy Larry went, neatly clothed, to school. A 
 present or two was sent for him to the Christmas- 
 tree. His lot did not seem so much harder than 
 other lads', if his uncle did scowl on him and some- 
 times give him a sly cuff as well as a curse. 
 
 But, with his mother's death, all was changed. 
 Dawsey went out from the dead woman's presence 
 to one of his rare fits of drunkenness. 
 
 He had shown hints of feeling during her sick- 
 ness, and before she died he solemnly promised, in 
 Mrs. Seyton's presence, to care for the child as his 
 own. He did go so far as to take out papers of 
 adoption. Perhaps he thus satisfied his conscience, 
 for here any kindness to Larry ended. 
 
 'Ho more school ; hard work all the days of the 
 week — ^hard work and poor fare; and, every day, 
 the clothes, that his mother used to keep so tidy, 
 getting raggeder. 
 
THE FIRST DAY. 71 
 
 At first, Dawsey was not actively bnital. He 
 kept the boy from school, worked liim harder than 
 an ox, and fed him barely ; he was morose in his 
 manners, scolded at any pretext, and made biting 
 speeches without pretext ; but he did not beat Lar- 
 ry. Of late, however, his bad temper had grown 
 on him ; and passers-by told of shrieks in a child's 
 voice and the sound of blows ; and Larry had a 
 black eye, often; once, too, his head was tied up, 
 and when the cloth came off there remained an 
 ugly scar. 
 
 ISTobody knew of his complaining, not even to 
 Alan Seyton, who was a childish hero of his. He 
 was a quiet, patient lad. If there were gleams of 
 spirit hid about him, nobody suspected them. 
 
 Something like this was the story Sally told 
 Cecil. He was excited. Cobbs, who went home 
 with them, looked grave, saying that he didn't hke 
 the looks of things; people talked very "severe" 
 against old man Dawsey. 
 
 "They're afraid of him, though," said Alan. 
 He had joined the company half-way home, and 
 was trudging along unconcernedly as usual. 
 
 " Well, you ain't," Cobbs rejoined. And Ally 
 grinned. 
 
 " I am," said Sally ; " I'm 'f raid he'll do us an 
 
72 WE ALL. 
 
 awful meanness some time. Do jou reckon he could 
 set the house a-fire, Cobbs ? " 
 
 " ISTo, sure, missy," said Cobbs. 
 
 " I'd shoot him if he tried," said Cecil, laughing. 
 
 They went home in high good humor, as far as 
 the boys were concerned ; but Sally's tender heart 
 fretted over Larry. Where was he ? Had his 
 cruel uncle found him ? Was he in the dismal 
 recesses of the swamp, cold and hungry ? 
 
 She cudgeled her brains all that day, I am sure, 
 to invent some plan of succor. And, truth to tell, 
 the real reason she went out on the coon-hunt that 
 evening, was from a vague, wild hope that they 
 might find some trace of Larry. 
 
 Cobbs proposed the coon-hunt. He felt it on 
 his conscience to amuse the guest ; and a coon-hunt 
 struck the old hunter as a peculiarly innocent, safe 
 sport. 
 
 "Moonlight night, Ally," said he, winking; 
 " 'coons an' 'possum thick as hair." 
 
 " And we could take Henri," said Alan. 
 
 Cecil was feeling homesick again with the night- 
 fall ; he hailed any diversion. 
 
 Therefore, after supper, the moon being high 
 in the heavens, they started on the coon-hunt. 
 
 A coon-hunt is a favorite Southwestern sport. 
 
THE FIRST DAY. 73 
 
 Moonliglit is required for tlie hunters to see the 
 coon, although sometimes a fire is built that gives 
 enough light by which to sight a gun. 
 
 A dog is necessary to find the coon or 'possum 
 — a dog that understands his business. 
 
 Henri lY, which, Sally explained, was their 
 valued dog's name (given to him because of the 
 white tuft on his forehead, the "white plume of 
 Navarre "), was not an attractive beast at first 
 eight. 
 
 He was a lank, sneaking-looking Arkansas 
 hound that had lost one half of one lop ear in a 
 fight and had half a dozen scars, as well. He trot- 
 ted along in a curious, ungainly fashion, as if he 
 were lame — which he was not — and resented the ad- 
 vances of strangers by showing a ragged row of 
 teeth and growling. 
 
 " He really is right sweet-tempered," said Sally, 
 "but when we go hunting he gets so excited he 
 forgets his manners." 
 
 Cecil put Ally between him and the "right 
 sweet-tempered " dog, which was sniffing suspicious- 
 ly at his heels. 
 
 Ally was armed with a rifle as big as himself, 
 Cecil carried a beautiful Greener, Sally bore an axe, 
 and Cobbs had his new gun on his shoulder. 
 
74 WE ALL. 
 
 To do honor to the occasion, Cecil had donned 
 his hunting-suit, which Cobbs ejed with vast but 
 secret scorn. As for Sallj and Alan, thej wore 
 their shabbiest clothes and rubber boots. 
 
 They walked very quietly through the forest, 
 on the other side of the river. 
 
 In fifteen minutes they were out of sight of the 
 lights. 
 
 About them was only a forest as grim, as dark, 
 as wildly tangled with underbrush as when the axe 
 of the first settler found it. Above them the full 
 moon rolled in a steel-blue, starless sky. 
 
 Henri lumbered ahead, his nose to the ground. 
 
 He began to bark. 
 
 " He's found him," announced Ally. 
 
 The dog's clamor filled all the silent wood now ; 
 sharp, yelping barks. Away down a moonht vista 
 they could see him hurrying. His tail was straight 
 in the air, stiff as a stick of wood. 
 
 Presently the barks changed. Howls, sharper 
 barks, the outcry of delight, instead of anxiety, 
 reached them. 
 
 " Treed him," said Ally. 
 
 " Shore," said Cobbs. 
 
 It was easy enough getting to the tree under 
 which Henri was frantically barking. Not so easy, 
 
Cecil lifted his gvn. 
 
THE FIRST DAY. 75 
 
 Cecil tliouglit, to see the 'possum hiding under the 
 rusty foliage. 
 
 He was relieved to hear Alan announce the need 
 of a fire. 
 
 They pushed dry leaves and twigs (" trash " 
 Cobbs called them) into a heap, and very soon a 
 ruddy flame leaped up, thin and high, like a huge 
 candle. By that flickering glare they could see not 
 only the tree, but a circle of woodland. 
 
 " Will you shoot ? " said Ally to Cecil. 
 
 Cecil lifted his gun. High up in the tree he 
 caught a glimpse of a hue of gray fur. Ping ! went 
 the gun. 
 
 There was a rustle among the dead leaves. So 
 true was the aim that the gray lump fell almost at 
 their feet, and instantly Ally was beating off the 
 dog. 
 
 "Good shot. Bud," said Cobbs. He used the 
 Arkansas word for brother, or boy, very similar to 
 our famiKar " Bub." 
 
 Cecil regarded Cobbs coldly. What right had 
 he, a mere servant, to be using such familiar terms ? 
 JSTevertheless, he was not insensible to the sweetness 
 of praise. 
 
 Honest Cobbs went on unconsciously : " Keckon 
 we kin take you aout on a wil'-hog hunt, ayfter all. 
 
76 WE ALL. 
 
 Gunnel 'lowed 'twnd be too rough riding ; but , the 
 way you take hole things, I reckon you wudn't be 
 skeered of a bit er cane." 
 
 " Oh, no," said Cecil, softening in spite of him- 
 seH. 
 
 He received Ally's congratulations affably ; then 
 he looked around for Sally. After all, Sally was 
 the one from whom he expected to receive the 
 help and interest of companionship. But Sally had 
 run a few paces ahead. 
 
 "When she came back her first words were not 
 for him. 
 
 " See what I found ! " she cried, displaying what 
 looked like a torn handkerchief. 
 
 " Well, it ain't worth finding," said Ally, 
 bluntly. 
 
 " Wliat be ye totin' it raoun fur, missy ? " said 
 Cobbs, in a different tone. 
 
 She held it up. "Don't you see?" As they 
 were silent, she fitted it to her face. At once they 
 exclaimed : 
 
 " It's a mask, by gum ! " Ally cried. 
 
 " That's one of them tricks the fellers that 
 frightened the niggers wore on thar faces," was 
 Cobbs's conclusion, very solemnly uttered. " Whar 
 ye f oun' hit, missy ? " 
 
THE FIRST DAY. 77 
 
 " By the big gum-tree," said Sally. " I saw it 
 shining and I picked it up." 
 
 They all examined it. But only Cecil noticed 
 that, while they were examining it, Sally uttered a 
 suppressed exclamation. " Let me look at it," she 
 said, taking it nearer the firelight. Afterward — 
 but again only Cecil noticed it — she it was who put 
 the handkerchief in her pocket. 
 
 " It's a clew," said Sally, with dignity, " and we 
 have to preserve it. 
 
 All the word suggested to Ally was a thought of 
 preserves, and so by an easy transition a disagreeable 
 reminder of butter." 
 
 " Oh, say," he exclaimed, " we got to send for 
 some butter." 
 
 Ally never troubled himself with the inconse- 
 quence of his remarks. 
 
 " Why, we have plenty of butter ; Aunt Cindy 
 churned to-day," said Sally. 
 
 " Well, it's just the same ; she gave the churn to 
 Yance," said Ally, easily, " you know that caK Pete 
 just won't keep up in the yard ; Yance heard the 
 boat whistle and ran out to see it, and that calf, 
 someway, he got at the churn — I heard Aunt Cindy 
 just chastising of Yance 'bout it. She said all the 
 butter was plumb spoiled." 
 
78 WE ALL. 
 
 Sally, the housekeeper, looked disturbed. 
 
 "He broke the churn, too," finished Ally, 
 placidly. "I forgot to tell you that, and Aunt 
 Cindy says not even Cobbs can mend it. Got to 
 have a new churn, she says. Reckon we got to 
 sop our bread in molasses for a while, like the 
 niggers." 
 
 " I'll tell you suthin' else since you begun," said 
 Cobbs. " The ice is all gone in the storehouse, and 
 if we have a warm day to-morrow the meat will be 
 gone tew. — "Wa'al, Query's off agin ! " 
 
 Henri led them a long chase this time. As they 
 tramped along in the moonlight, Cecil looked curi- 
 ously at the 'possum swinging imder Cobbs's hand. 
 
 He observed that it looked " like an overgrown 
 rat " ; but Cobbs, with a short chuckle, added 
 " "Wa'al, looks more like a monstrous big duck, t' 
 my mind, when ye get that 'ar fur offen it." 
 
 He went on to tell how the negroes preferred 
 'possum to all other food. " Ye cayn't find a darkey 
 won't take jes' natchelly to 'possum. But thar's a 
 heap er ways in treatin' 'possum. The right way — 
 ain't it, Br'er 'Possum?" — addressing the lump — 
 " air to put you out on the roof couple o' nights, t' 
 freeze. That's f ustly ; secondly, when we got the 
 fishy taste outen ye, we kin bile ye very sof an' 
 
THE FIRST DAY. 79 
 
 gentle, goin' on three, four hours, and then we put 
 ye in a pan an' put in a little water, an' salt an' 
 pepper ye right smart an' kiver ye with slices of 
 raw sweet pertaters an' bake an' bake ye till you' 
 plumb tender. Laws, ain't ye juicy an' rich then ! " 
 
 Cobbs sighed over a retrospect of past dehght. 
 He patted the opossum affectionately. 
 
 "Bless ye, Br'er 'Possmn, ain't nuthin' mean 
 'baout you! you make them taters taste nearly 
 'baout 's good 's you. Mymy, mymy! I seen the 
 time when I got afore a right good-cooked 'possum, 
 I eat so much I nearly made a founder." 
 
 Ally interrupted : " Say, Cobbs, look over yon- 
 der ; there's a fire in the woods ! " 
 
 Cobbs looked ; he pursed his Hps and frowned. 
 " Thar had oughter be a cotton-picker's haouse 
 tharabouts," said he, musingly. "Tain't a much 
 good haouse, but I hate t' have ary property of the 
 cunnel's burn daown while he's gone. I do so. 
 Less git a glimpse of it." 
 
 Abandoning the 'coon or 'possum that Henri 
 had found — poor dog, he was dancing about a tall 
 tree " barking his head off " — they struck through 
 the wood until they reached an ineffectual sort of 
 clearing, in one corner of which stood a ruined 
 cabin. There was^no window, but all the chinks 
 
80 WE ALL. 
 
 and the doorway, to which no door pertained any 
 longer, leaked a ruddy glow. 
 
 Yet in a second Cobbs motioned the others 
 back, whispering : " Hush ! 'tain't no fire ; some 
 one's inside. Come on slow and* quiet like, an 
 see." 
 
 "When they were wdthin a few rods of the house, 
 Cobbs ran ahead. 
 
 He would not let Ally or the others accompany 
 him. But in a moment he motioned for them to 
 come on, at the same time placing his fingers on his 
 lips to caution them to be silent. 
 
 Cecil began to be excited. Slowly they crept 
 up to the house. 
 
 In obedience to a gesture from Cobbs, Ally 
 placed himself on one side of the door. 
 
 The next moment a little ragged shape uncoiled 
 itseK out of a heap before the fire and stood straight 
 up in the glow, staring at them with wild, scared 
 eyes. 
 
 " Larry ! " cried Sally. 
 
 Larry, indeed, it was ; and his relief (when he 
 discovered their identity) was no less than their sur- 
 prise. 
 
 It appeared that he had sprained his ankle in 
 his race through the woods. Nothing better could 
 
THE FIRST DAY. 81 
 
 be done tlian to hide himself for the night in what- 
 ever shelter he could find. 
 
 "When it come sun-up I 'lowed t'get over 
 t' the big haouse an' see Ally," he mumbled. 
 
 " Ally," thought Cis ; " he calls him Ally, and 
 Ally doesn't care." In fact, Ally would have been 
 surprised at any other mode of address. 
 
 " What was Dawsey mad at you for ? " said he. 
 
 " 'Cause he went off t' other night, and I Ht 
 the lamp," said Larry ; " I got skeered up bein' 
 left by my 'lone." 
 
 Cobbs chuckled. "Ah, he ben aout, did he? 
 When, yestidday ? " 
 
 " j^aw, sir, day before yestidday night ? " 
 
 "Whar did he go?" 
 
 "I dunno," said Larry, looking scared. 
 
 1^0 questioning drew out any further informa- 
 tion. 
 
 All this time poor Henri had been filling the 
 air with vociferous yelps. 
 
 " I'll go back and kill the coon," said Sally, in 
 the most matter-of-fact way ; " please lend me your 
 gun, cousin Cecil." 
 
 " Ko, let me, sis," said Ally ; indeed, he was 
 running across the wood before they could answer. 
 
 Cobbs and Sally and Cis all looked at Larry. 
 
82 WE ALL. 
 
 Wliat should they do with him ? He had subsided 
 into his usual limp dejection, and evidently regard- 
 ed his fate as shuffled off his own hands into theirs. 
 
 Finally, Sally, who had been knitting her brows 
 in her anxiety, spoke : " Cobbs, we have to take him 
 somewhere." 
 
 " To be shore, missy," said Cobbs. 
 
 "If we keep him at our house, Dawsey will 
 find out." 
 
 " To be shore, missy," said Cobbs. 
 
 "Besides" — Sally's care-taking little frown 
 deepened — " it may make trouble — about papa, you 
 know." 
 
 " To be shore, missy," Cobbs agreed, with great- 
 er emphasis. 
 
 He turned on Larry. "Well, Bud, whar was 
 ye 'lowin' t' go yoxCseff^ hay ? " 
 
 Larry fumbled with his miserable hat, and said 
 he " ben 'lowin' to see Ally." 
 
 " I mout take him with m^," said Cobbs, eying 
 the ragged and squalid shape with a dubious ex- 
 pression. Cobbs was a tidy man. 
 
 " But you couldn't hide him," said Sally. " ISTo, 
 Cobbs ; I'll tell you what we'll do. We'll take him 
 to Aunt Yalley's. She can hide him ; and she wiU, 
 too." 
 
THE FIRST DAY. 83 
 
 "I ben aimin' t' 'ax Ally if I hadn't bes' go 
 t' Aunt Valley's," said Larry, meekly. 
 
 " Cay'nt tote ye tliar, to-night," said Cobbs; "ye 
 got t' wait an' go before sun-up." 
 
 There was a little more discussion, in which, to 
 Cecil's amusement, Larry was not considered at all. 
 It was decided that Cobbs should take the boy home 
 with him. Cobbs lived alone. There would be no 
 one to spy on his visitor, and, before the plantation 
 was astir in the morning, Cobbs could have Larry 
 safely stowed in a wagon-bed out of sight. 
 
 "When Ally appeared with the coon, the plan 
 was explained to him. 
 
 Ally wrinkled his eyelids over his eyes, haK- 
 shutting them in the funny way he had when 
 deeply considering ; and Cecil noticed that Larry 
 seemed suddenly to awake out of his stupor, and 
 was gazing eagerly at Ally. 
 
 " Humph ! Yes, I reckon," said Ally. 
 
 " I knowed Ally would find a way fur me," said 
 Larry, drawing a deep sigh of relief and admira- 
 tion, and quite oblivious to the fact that it was 
 Sally who had really suggested the way. 
 
 "But I better go with you, you know," said 
 Ally, still considering.—" Say, sis, Cobbs has got to 
 have some excuse for trapsin' over the country." 
 
84 WE ALL. 
 
 " Of course," said Sally. " Ally, liow would it 
 do for us all to go with Cobbs in the morning, 
 right early ? And then we can see if Aunt Yalley 
 hasn't some butter; and w^e can go on to the sta- 
 tion and telegraph to Little Hock for some butter 
 and ice to come on in the train, and we can arrange 
 with Aunt Yalley to go after it and fetch it in — 
 that will save us a trip over the bad roads, now 
 we need the horses hauling wood. "What do you 
 think?" 
 
 Ally grinned admiringly. " Well, sis, you have 
 a heap of sense ! — What do you say, Cecil ? Would 
 you like to go?" 
 
 Cecil had no mind for another trip over the 
 roads ; but there was no good excuse in sight, and 
 he assented with apparent willingness. 
 
 " Then that's settled," said Ally ; " there's only 
 one thing left : Larry hasn't had any supper." 
 
 Cobbs agreed to give Larry some light bread 
 and pork and milk before he went to bed ; and 
 he good-naturedly added that he would have some 
 hot coffee ready for the young people in the 
 morning. 
 
 " Save Aunt Cindy's bones for once," said he, 
 winking jocosely ; " she hates gittin' up wusser than 
 sinnin — and she's mighty pious." 
 
THE FIRST DAY. 85 
 
 The matter being thus satisfactorily arranged, 
 tlie little company took up its homeward march — 
 Henri, very loath, accompanying them, howhng 
 occasionally over his disappointment. 
 
 Sally walked behind Larry, who was supported 
 by Cobbs, for he was incapable of walking alone. 
 He wdnced sometimes over a stmnble, but did not 
 utter a sound. Sally asked hun* if his ankle hurt 
 
 him. 
 
 " Oh, 'tain't a much bad hurt," said he, patient- 
 ly; "I don't mind it." 
 
 Sally was not satisfied. " Did you have an}i;hing 
 to eat to-day ? " 
 
 " Well, I did have some corn pone this mornin'." 
 
 " And nothing else ? " said Cecil. 
 
 " Kaw, sir ; but onyhow he never does give me 
 but two meals a day. Says what stunts folkses are 
 overfeedin'. Jest makes 'em fat an' greasy; an' 
 they doesn't grow endwise 'tall." 
 
 " "Wa'al, dad gum my skin ! " said Cobbs. 
 " Ain't that man the beater ? " 
 
 "Ain't he?" said Ally. 
 
 " He taken way them cloze my maw leff me," 
 said Larry, " an' my knife you guv me " — turning 
 to Ally — "an' that ar handketcher, tew. Sayd 
 them tricks pompered boys an' made 'em sassy." 
 
86 WE ALL. 
 
 There was no note of complaint in Larry's voice 
 telling his tale ; it was quite matter of fact. 
 
 "Did he treat you bad, Larry?" Ally asked. 
 Ally was getting very furious, but Sally said never 
 a word. 
 
 " He didn't uster treat me much bad, but lately 
 he bin lickin' me a heap," said Larry, " an' I reckon 
 he 'lows t' kill me now, he are so mad at me." 
 
 Even now there was no animation in his manner. 
 But all at once he gave a dog-like glance at Ally, 
 and added, "I reckoned if I cud git to Ally he 
 wudn't let him." 
 
 " I'll shoot him first ! " cried Ally. 
 
 Still Sally was silent. 
 
 They left Larry in Cobbs's care, Cobbs promis- 
 ing to give him something " heatin' " in addition to 
 the bread and pork before he went to bed. 
 
 After they were home, the reason for Sally's 
 silence appeared. 
 
 She shut the door of the room and drew closer 
 to the two boys, who were warming their backs be- 
 fore the blazing fire. 
 
 In her hand was the handkerchief mask. 
 
 She held it up. "Don't you know it, Ally?" 
 said she. 
 
 " Know it ! " Ally repeated. But Cecil pointed 
 
THE FIRST DAY. 87 
 
 to a tiny inscription in the corner : " Alan E. Sey- 
 ton." 
 
 "It's the handkerchief you gave Larry," said 
 Sally, impressively, "the time he cut his head. 
 Don't you see ? Larry said he took his handker- 
 chief. He took it to make a mask of." 
 
 " Shucks ! " observed Ally. 
 
 " I don't reckon they had another handkerchief 
 in the house," said Sally, " so he took this." 
 
 She folded the handkerchief carefully and put it 
 back in her pocket. " That's what I call evidence," 
 said she. 
 
 " May be, if we can prove that he took it and 
 Larry didn't lose it," was the cautious Ally's conclu- 
 sion. He would have taken it then, late as it was, 
 over to Cobbs for advice ; but Sally suggested that 
 Larry's presence would interfere, and it was resolved 
 to wait until morning. 
 
 " Well," thought Cecil, as he drew the bedclothes 
 about him, half an hour later, " life here may be 
 queer, but it certainly isn't stupid." 
 
CHAPTEE Y. 
 
 AUNT VALLEY AGAIN. 
 
 KoT a trace of red sliowed above the flat cypress- 
 tops, but the sky had the wan, dissolving look that 
 heralds the dawn, when the three children stole 
 through the grove to Cobbs's cabin. Eeally, cabin 
 is not a large enough name for a four-roomed, two- 
 chinmeyed, tight house, with a gallery (as the 
 Southerners call their curious verandas that have 
 the roof for cover, and extend between as well as 
 in front of the rooms), but I am quoting from Cecil, 
 who had a great notion of using the language of the 
 country. Besides, four rooms didn't seem so large 
 to him ; and he didn't know the advantages of a 
 tight house by experiencing the disadvantages of 
 leaks in the roof or gaps in the weather-boarding. 
 
 Cobbs's house was neatly painted, and had a lit- 
 tle garden in front, where a few chrysanthemums 
 flaunted their yellow petals among the sweet-potato 
 vines. 
 
AUNT VALLEY AGAIN. 89 
 
 In the room to which the party were shown 
 there was a paper on the walls and a carpet as well 
 as four "animal rugs" on the floor. Each rug 
 represented a different animal — tiger, wolf, lion, 
 or elephant — giving the floor quite the vivid and 
 thrilling effect of a circus poster. 
 
 For many years Ally had admired these rugs ; 
 hadn't he, indeed, given the very largest and bright- 
 est, the tiger rug, to Cobbs on Christmas ? He 
 pointed them out to Cecil with artless pride; he 
 reckoned Cousin Cecil didn't see much finer rugs 
 even in Chicago. 
 
 " They are very gay, indeed," Cis agreed, sup- 
 pressing his feelings. 
 
 Yet, somehow, Sally looked troubled; she was 
 not so sure as Ally that Cis didn't see finer rugs in 
 Chicago. 
 
 " Look at the walls, too," Ally requested ; " ain't 
 those plow-pictures lovely, with the sky all round 
 and the plow on top of the ball ? That girl with the 
 cap came with the starch, and that other girl's bak- 
 ing-powder. That's a funny one, ain't it, where 
 they're scrubbing the little darkey white with the 
 soap? That means soap will scrub everything on 
 earth clean." 
 
 " Oh, does it ? " said Cecil, dryly. 
 
90 WE ALL. 
 
 And again Sally winced. 
 
 Among the plows and the beauteous damsels 
 that adorn starch and baking-powder — by wholesale 
 packages — was a motley collection of daguerreo- 
 types, tintypes, and photographs of Cobbs's " kin " ; 
 the faces very dark and severe, the hands and feet 
 of extraordinary size, and all of the subjects having 
 a general air of undergoing a surgical operation in 
 their best clothes. 
 
 Cecil was an amateur photograj)her. He fell 
 upon the poor smudgy things with cruel glee ; but 
 in a second his gaze lighted on another adornment 
 that he found more entertaining than the photo- 
 graphs. This was no less than a " hair picture," rep- 
 resenting a lank female, in scanty skirts, weeping 
 over a funeral urn, in company with a very stunted 
 willow arid a singular fowl, that looked like a chick- 
 en, but presumably was intended for a dove. A 
 message from the artist, on the lower right-hand 
 corner of the picture, informed the world that it was 
 " wove out of the hair of Obi T. Cobbs, died March 
 8, 1860, aged fifty-eight years, two months, five days. 
 
 "Willy C. Cobbs, his daughter, died July 2, 
 1863, aged fifteen years. 
 
 " Cassius K. Cobbs, his grandson, died February 
 15, 1864, aged eight months two days ; and Sabra 
 
AUNT VALLEY AGAIN. 91 
 
 H. Cobbs, his mother, died January 23, 1870, aged 
 ninety years one month. 
 
 "By me, Temperance Ann Cobbs his widow," 
 said the inscription. 
 
 While Cecil wondered if he dared express his 
 amusement. Ally came to him and rubbed a finger 
 softly over the glass. 
 
 " Cobbs's mother did that," said Ally ; " it's all 
 hair-work, but you can't see a bit sticking up any- 
 where. It's done so fine you'd 'most think it was 
 lead-pencil, wouldn't you ? The gray hair's Cobbs's 
 father's and the black hair's his sister's and the whity 
 yellow's the baby's. She was ten years making it ; 
 but then, she waited a sight of time for grandma 
 Cobbs to die, 'cause she thought it would be nice to 
 put her hair in for the urn." 
 
 "And what do you reckon?" Sally broke in. 
 " Grandma Cobbs wanted her hair put in while she 
 was alive ! She said she did crave so to see how 
 'twould look and Tempe Ann (that was Cobbs's 
 mother) could fill in the date of her death when she 
 did die — ^ 'Cause course I will die some time^ she 
 said, ' though I expect the Lord's most done forgot 
 whar I be.' " 
 
 "Yes," Ally struck in, "and she took on so 
 about it that Cobbs persuaded his mother to give 
 
92 WE ALL. 
 
 in to her ; but we never talk about it, because Mrs. 
 Cobbs never did like to let folks know. It's pretty, 
 ain't it r' 
 
 " It took the prize at tbe fair," said Sally. 
 
 Both cliildren were so solemn that Cecil strangled 
 a laugh, and only asked gravely if Cobbs was mar- 
 ried. 
 
 " ]N'o," said Alan ; " he lives all alone, now his 
 mother's in Texas. He was going to be married, 
 once, ever so long ago before we were born ; but 
 his girl died." 
 
 " Is her picture here ? " 
 
 " ISTo, he never did have her picture ; he's only 
 just got a side-saddle of hers that he keeps and a 
 book-mark in his Bible." 
 
 Cecil, with a faint awakening of interest in 
 Cobbs, glanced at the Bible on the white marble- 
 topped table of state, and wondered if it held the 
 book-mark. 
 
 Ally would have enlarged on Cobbs's romance, 
 had not his sister hushed him. 
 
 " Yon comes Cobbs with the coffee and Larry," 
 she whispered. 
 
 Cobbs looked very much the same, but Larry 
 was transformed. Meeker and limper, and smaller 
 than ever in a suit of Ally's old clothes, he hobbled 
 
AUNT VALLEY AGAIN. 93 
 
 in and disappeared in tlie depths of the big red 
 rocker. 
 
 " Why, Larry Harkness," cried Sally, " if you 
 haven't had your hair cut ! How nice you look ! " 
 
 " And I ben washed plumb over, tew," Larry 
 returned, " in a tub ; Mist' Cobbs helped me, same 
 like maw uster." 
 
 ^'WeU, did it hurt?" said Cecil, and Cobbs 
 chuckled ; but Larry fixed his great, solemn eyes on 
 the l^orthern boy and answered impassively, " Naw, 
 sir, not much bad." 
 
 " Well, you look right nice now," Sally re- 
 peated. 
 
 Larry looked wistfully at Ally. " Does you 'low 
 I look nice, tew ? " said he. 
 
 " IN'ever saw you look so nice before," said 
 Ally. " Here, have another lump of sugar in your 
 coffee." 
 
 "Then I'll wash in Aunt Yalley's tub, ever' 
 week ! " said Larry, stoutly ; " onyhow, 'tain't so bad 
 as lickin's." 
 
 The little outcast did not seem to make any 
 doubt of his welcome by Aunt Yalley ; but then, 
 as Cecil reflected, no more did any of the others. 
 
 Whether it was the keen air, or Cobbs's cookery, 
 he found Cobbs's corn dodgers and coffee delicious. 
 
94 WE ALL. 
 
 There was even a little pat of butter left in Cobbs's 
 own pantrj. Tliey ate by lampliglit. Cobbs bad 
 lavishly lighted both his two lamps and a candle (for 
 which an impromptu candlestick had been carved 
 out of a potato), but before the meal was finished 
 the first pale rays of the sun were creeping through 
 the white curtains. 
 
 The wagon and Cobbs were ready. Cobbs 
 cleared the table, helped by the children and Larry, 
 and deftly stacked the dishes in a great pan filled 
 with water. 
 
 "I jest do hate to have dishes all messed and 
 gummed up like they git by standin'," said Cobbs. 
 " Well, pile in, gentlemen an' ladies." 
 
 Eufe was in waiting at the ferry, and they set 
 forth, Ally in front with Cobbs, Cecil and Sally be- 
 hind. As for Larry, he was stowed away length- 
 wise in the wagon-bed, under the robe, not a scrap 
 of him visible. 
 
 ]N'ever a murmur did the creature make while 
 they drove through the sleeping plantations, until 
 Cecil began actually to fear that he was suffocated, 
 he was so quiet. 
 
 A few lights, springing up in the low "windows, 
 showed that work was beginning with the day. 
 The last house passed. Ally hailed the exile from 
 
AUNT VALLEY AGAIN. 95 
 
 air, under the robe : " Come on out, Larry ! Aren't 
 you terrible choked and stiff ? " 
 
 " Laws, no," said Larry ; " I ben 'sleep." 
 
 Sally beguiled the way wdth legends of the road. 
 
 Dismal enough they seemed to be, most of them : 
 to the right, beside that blasted cypress-trunk, white 
 as dead bones, a Federal scout had been shot by an 
 unkno^vn assassin ; and there, in the self -same place, 
 had the man who was suspected of the crime sunk 
 in the mire and perished miserably. 
 
 " Why, is the mud so deep as all that ? " said 
 Cecil, astonished. 
 
 " Well, skeercely," said Cobbs. " You see, he fell 
 face for'ard, an' he ben so blamed drunk he didn't 
 know 'nuff to git up. That's 'baout the size of it." 
 
 " An' daown thar in the swag," piped up Larry, 
 moved to contribute to the general entertainment, 
 " my paw ben killed. They all fund jest his boots 
 sticking up. He had got," said Larry, with modest 
 pride, " three turrible bullet-holes in him." 
 
 " How old were you then, Larry ? " Sally asked, 
 looking pitifully at the unconscious child. 
 
 " Oh, I kin remember it right well ; I ben risin' 
 of five." 
 
 "Who killed him, Larry?" Cecil questioned, 
 out of sheer curiosity, to see if the boy had any sus- 
 
96 WE ALL. 
 
 picion of tlie cruel gossip afloat. He was amazed at 
 Larry's answer, given in the most matter-of-fact 
 manner : 
 
 ^' Most f olkses 'lows Uncle Dawsej done it." 
 
 " And jou go on living with liim ! " cried Cecil, 
 who for once forgot his politeness, in a burst of 
 horror at the situation. 
 
 " I didn't got nowhar else to live," said Larry, 
 stoically. But in a minute his chin quivered, and 
 Cecil could see how tightly his little, claw-like hands 
 were gripping the robe. 
 
 " I ain't aimin' to furgit it," said he, in a strained 
 voice. 
 
 Ally patted his shoulders — consoling him after 
 liis boyish fashion. 
 
 " ]N^ever you mind, Larry. You don't need to 
 go back to him, never ! We all will look out after 
 JOU now." 
 
 " To be shore. Bud," said Cobbs. 
 
 Cecil tried to retrieve his mistake by giving 
 Larry a dollar. It was a shock to have him flatly 
 refuse it. " I ain't done nuthin' fur ye," says Larry. 
 
 " Oh, that dosen't matter," Cecil returns, with a 
 lordly air ; " keep it. You're welcome to it." 
 
 But Larry flushed all over his pale face, and 
 muttered, " I ain't a-beggin'." 
 
AUNT VALLEY AGAIN. 97 
 
 " Well, you can give it to Aunt Yalley " — Sally 
 hastened to the rescue — " she'll like it." 
 
 " I never saw such touchy people as Southern- 
 ers," thought Cecil. By this time they were come 
 to the bad road, hence there was plenty of other oc- 
 cupation for his thoughts. 
 
 They soon discerned Aunt Yalley perched on a 
 white heap of cotton above four wheels, driving two 
 of her mules. Hauling, in fact, was one of Aunt 
 Yalley' s main sources of revenue. This was not 
 her own cotton, but the load of a neighbor. 
 
 She hailed Cobbs volubly ; were they all going 
 on ? Road turrible bad, turrible bad. All at once 
 (she was now abreast of them) her faded eyes fell on 
 Larry. She nearly fell off her wagon, so violently 
 did she start. "How come ye fotch dat boy t' 
 me ? " she screamed. " I nev' did know nuthin' 
 'bout dat boy. Dawsey's kin ! I nev' did part lips 
 wid him, — G'way, Dawsey's boy ! " 
 
 She was so frantic that it seemed strange to see 
 Larry's composure, as he stood up, laughing and 
 shouting : " Oh, it's all right. Aunt Yalley ! I done 
 runned away from the old man, an' Ally f otched me 
 to you. It's all right for shore ! " 
 
 " How come ye runned away frum you' own 
 uncle ? " growled Aunt Yalley, still unappeased. 
 
98 WE ALL. 
 
 Sallj noticed how her hands twitched at the 
 reins, and her eyeballs rolled. She went on, in a 
 mutter, " I ain't succorin' no runaways, dat's sho' ! " 
 
 " Oh, well, Aunt Yalley," said Larry, no whit 
 dismayed by her ungraciousness, " I are jest nat- 
 chelly bleeged to throw myseif on you — kase you 
 kin hide me." 
 
 " Yes, Aunt Yalley, you must^'' said Sally, 
 decidedly. 
 
 " Sure, Aunt Yalley," said Ally. 
 
 "I reckon you got to give in. Aunt Yalley," 
 said Cobbs, grinning ; " dessay you'd ruther not, but 
 we all cayn't alius have our ruthers, in this worl'. 
 Willlh'isthimin?" 
 
 But here Larry took matters into his own hands 
 by scrambling down, lame as he was. 
 
 Ally leaped after him into the mud, and so 
 helped him to Aunt Yalley's wagon. 
 
 The negress made no further demur, unless it 
 were demurring to declare before the Lord that 
 boys " wored her to a frazzle " ; and she didn't see 
 how she " ben going to slew her mules round " in 
 that " mash." 
 
 However, with Cobbs's assistance she did con- 
 trive to turn in safety, so that she might take Larry 
 back home with her. 
 
AUNT VALLEY AGAIN. 99 
 
 There slie proposed to leave liira while she 
 should carry the cotton to the gin. 
 
 She was quite willing to wait until she could go 
 to the station for the Sejtons' ice and butter. 
 *' Ain't no call to make tew haulin's of it," she 
 grunted. " Mist' Coffin, he ain't mistrustin' de cot- 
 ton ain't gone aready." 
 
 "That's so," said Cobbs, cheerfully, "an' what 
 the mind don't know the hairt caynt grieve." 
 
 Aunt Yalley bestowed a grim sort of leer and 
 a nod on the moralist. " Well, you isn't a fool all 
 de time," was her rather dubious form of approval. 
 — "G'lang you, Melodion ! Huh! My Lawd, I 
 does got de rheumatiz so pow'ful bad I'se in a heap 
 er mizry dis day ! " 
 
 Thus, mumbling and moaning (with occasional 
 fin-like dives of one hand to rub her afflicted 
 back), she fell into the rear ; and the children 
 drove away. 
 
 Cecil was concerned lest some one should see 
 Larry. Ally reassured him. " Needn't be 'fraid 
 of that. Cousin Cecil ; Aunt Valley's right sharp ; 
 she'll hide him. My my! you had ought to hear 
 the stories Uncle Hobson used to tell of her tricks 
 when he was here." 
 
 " Ally," said his sister, " you say had ought, all 
 
 r 
 
100 WE ALL. 
 
 the time, now mamma's gone, and ain't, and — 
 everything." 
 
 "Oh, well" (Ally was not at all disturbed), 
 " I'll quit when she comes home. It's such a 
 nuisance studying 'bout your talk all the time. 
 And she can't hear me when she's 'way. What 
 the mind don't know the heart can't grieve, as 
 Cobbs says." 
 
 " Oh, but Ally," his sister persisted, " you know 
 it isn't to please mamma ; it's — it's to be like a gen- 
 tleman." 
 
 "Oh, well, I'll talk straight by and by." 
 
 "You'd orter talk straight now, right spang 
 off," Cobbs struck in emphatically. " Bymeby's 
 got a lame foot, an' never gets thar till to-morrow." 
 
 With such wise saws did Cobbs interlard his 
 talk ; and it must be confessed he edified Ally, if 
 no one else. 
 
 The Httle boy wrinkled his eyelids and looked 
 sober for the space of full five minutes — so sober 
 that Sally eyed him wistfully. 
 
 I wonder how much a craving to have Cecil 
 understand that Ally's slipshod ways of speaking 
 were " only in fun " because he was careless, not 
 at all because he didn't know better, had to do 
 with her reproof? Poor Sally! her tender con- 
 
AUNT VALLEY AGAIN. IQI 
 
 science emote her sore, now, for " putting on 
 airs" and mortifying Ally. 
 
 " I talk just like Ally," she hastened to say ; 
 "it's so easy when everybody about us talks wrong" 
 — ^here, she checked herself with a distressed look at 
 Cobbs, who had his chance to be " mortified " now. 
 " Of course, I don't mean very wrong," she stam- 
 mered, " only not just — just like the sentences to 
 be parsed in the grammar, you know." 
 
 " I call it plumb wrong the way w^e uns talk," 
 Cobbs interfered, with the utmost cheerfulness, al- 
 though he had to sacrifice a large quid of tobacco 
 in order to speak just then ; " but laws, missy, 
 what does it matter? "We uns ain't quality, nor 
 we ain't going to Congress." 
 
 " Talking about the way people talk," said Ce- 
 cil, really moved to help Sally, who was a nice little 
 thing, he thought, " do you know, I don't under- 
 stand at all so many words % Now, that old black 
 woman, she said boys wore her to a frazzle. What's 
 Q. frazzle^ pray?" 
 
 " Oh, a frazzle ? " said Ally ; " why, it's just— 
 a frazzle ! "When you are w^orn to a frazzle, you're 
 all worn out, you understand." 
 
 "Yarn gets into a frazzle sometimes," Sally 
 said, thoughtfully ; " it's like a frouzle, I expect." 
 
102 WE ALL. 
 
 "Well, I think I understand anyhow," Cecil 
 said, " it's expressive, isn't it ? But there's another 
 word : I heard your black boy Yance talking about 
 our horses being ill^ and when I asked him what 
 was the matter, he said : ' Oh, just meanness ; the 
 cold air made them feel so fine, they liked to jump 
 and caper.' I really don't see how sick horses can 
 like to jump and caper." 
 
 " Laws ! " said Cobbs, " they ain't sicTc ; they're 
 peart as peart. HI don't mean sick." 
 
 " It means cross," said Sally, " ill-behaved." 
 
 "And I know plumb means quite, and study 
 means to think. Oh, I shall learn the language 
 directly." 
 
 " I'll bet you will, Bud," Cobbs laughed ; " you', 
 the son er a mighty smart man, an' you'll make 
 out." 
 
 Strangely enough, Cobbs had taken a great fan- 
 cy to Cecil. He took pains as they plowed heavily 
 along, with plenty of time before each tree, to ex- 
 pound his woodland lore to the boy, showing him 
 how to distinguish trees by their bark us well as 
 foliage, and telling many thrilling tales of the wild 
 creatures that used to possess the forests. 
 
 " Bar's, they're plumb gone, hereabouts — an' 
 painters," said Cobbs, mournfully ; " an' they're 
 
AUNT VALLEY AGAIN. 103 
 
 killin' o2 the deer. Lord be praised for the 
 hogs, sajs I. After all, I ain't goin' to grunt iz 
 long's I kin shoot wil' hogs. I tell ye, Bud, thar 
 ain't no sport comes a nigh wil'-hog huntin'. 
 IN^aw, sir." 
 
 Cobbs had other tales, of human beings, wilder 
 and more merciless than the brutes. He had lived 
 in Arkansas all through the lawless time after the 
 war. He had been one of the band of determined 
 men that had hunted down the guerrillas. 
 
 " What did you do to them ? " Cecil asked 
 (after all, the South was like the times of chivalry, 
 with all that fighting), " send them to prison ? " 
 
 Cobbs killed a fly on Zerufa's mane with a sin- 
 gle swift flip of the whip-lash. " We jest natchelly 
 stood 'em up ag'in a tree and shot 'em. "We hadn't 
 no time to be storin' 'em up, onywhar." 
 
 "And only think of it," said Sally, "Dawsey 
 was one of those wicked men ! " 
 
 This thought reminded her that they were to 
 consult Cobbs about the handkerchief, which she 
 promptly submitted to him. 
 
 Cobbs received it as conclusive evidence of 
 Dawsey's guilt. 
 
 "We could show it to a jury, you know," Sally 
 cilaimed. 
 
104 WE ALL. 
 
 " And seein^s believinY' said Cobbs. 
 
 " But," Cecil objected, " wouldn't you have to 
 prove that Dawsey wore the mask ? " 
 
 This was a blighting thought, but (beginning 
 with Ally) they all recognized its force. 
 
 "We have to get more evidence," Sally ac- 
 knowledged, sorrowfully ; and immediately she pro- 
 posed going into the woods where they had found 
 the handkerchief. 
 
 They talked the matter over all the way to the 
 station, and most of the way home. 
 
 As they passed Aunt Yalley's house, returning, 
 they saw the old woman, out in her cotton-patch, 
 busy stripping the brown twigs. In the doorway of 
 the hut sat a little girl, who hastily swung herself 
 on all-fours back into the shadow and then as has- 
 tily swung herself back. And behold, under the 
 sunbonnet, is Larry's face ! 
 
 " Howdy, Ally ? " he calls. 
 
 " Howdy, Larry Jane ? " shouts Ally back ; 
 which Cobbs regards as a master-stroke of humor. 
 
 " Didn't I tell you Aunt Yalley would know 
 how to keep Larry safe ? " says Ally. 
 
 " Yes, she's right shrewd," says Sally, " and, 
 Ally, I don't believe she's got nearly so bad rheu- 
 matism as she pretends. She was walking as spry 
 
AUNT VALLEY AGAIN. 105 
 
 in the patch until she saw us; and then she bent 
 over double, and was as feeble as you please. She 
 puts it on, / think, just to get flannels and medicine 
 out of mamma. You see if she doesn't come for 
 some new flaimels when mamma gets back from the 
 Kock." 
 
 "Yes," Ally takes up the tale, "and whisky, 
 too ; she's awful fond of 'lasses and whisky mixed ; 
 she says nothing strikes the misery in her breast 
 like that. Some days she pretends to mamma she's 
 got the breast complaint — that's what they call con- 
 sumption ; though nobody ever did have it here." 
 
 " Oh, she's schemy," says Cobbs. 
 
 It was after nine o'clock when the horses passed 
 the Dawsey place, as mute, desolate, and disheveled- 
 looking, as when Cecil first saw it. 
 
 Dawsey was nowhere visible. 
 
CHAPTEE yi. 
 
 ON THE TRAIL. 
 
 Cecil would liave been contented to stay quietly 
 at home, that afternoon, and explore the Seytons' 
 old-fashioned library; but Sally and Alan both 
 were so eager to ransack the woods after what Sally 
 always called " clews," that he kept his inclinations 
 to himself. Cobbs and Henri completed the party. 
 Just why Henri was invited Cecil did not perceive, 
 although Sally explained that it was because dogs 
 were so sagacious, and Henri was perfectly splendid 
 about finding things. 
 
 *' Henri'U be surprised," said Ally ; " he'll know 
 we can't be hunting coons by daylight, and he won't 
 know what to think." 
 
 Henri contentedly trotted at their heels. 
 
 They searched all the vicinity of the place where 
 
 they had found the mask. Henri ran and barked 
 
 and scratched among the leaves ; but the ground 
 
 was so littered with dead leaves and herbage, and 
 
ON THE TRAIL. 107 
 
 SO defaced by wandering pigs, that a troop might 
 pass over it and no one be the wiser. 
 
 Sally, however, had a theory. " If they came 
 from Aunt Pearl Hotchkiss's place," said she, " or 
 were going there, they would have to ford the creek 
 by Joe Simmons's. May be we can find tracks 
 there ; there's a piece of right clayey land on the 
 other side, you know." 
 
 " Do you reckon there would be tracks in it ? " 
 said Ally ; " it's as dry as bone." 
 
 " It wasn't, that night. Don't you remember 
 how wet the road was when we went for Cousin 
 Cecil ? There would sure be footprints if they 
 went over that way to Uncle Joe's house." 
 
 Cobbs thought it worth a trial ; Ally, as usual, 
 agreed with Cobbs. Henri already was running 
 ahead, with his nose to the ground, in the direction 
 that they proposed to take. 
 
 They were all four on horseback, and they ford- 
 ed the creek quite in the manner that Sally assumed 
 the marauders must have done. 
 
 Sure enough, on the other side, there were in- 
 distinct marks of hoofs denting the shppery bank. 
 
 By the marks, there had been at least four 
 horses, possibly more, since the prints were con- 
 fused. 
 
108 WE ALL. 
 
 " Here's four all together," called Cecil (the 
 seekers had dismounted and were peering at the 
 marks) ; " they're in soft ground, too." 
 
 They were so much stronger prints that they 
 were like molds of a horse's hoof. Cobbs kneeled 
 down, put a piece of paper on them, and marked 
 them off with great nicety, afterward cutting out the 
 paper with his knife. He pronounced them to be 
 the hoofs of a mule, and a lame mule at that, because 
 one print was shallower than the others. " Favored 
 that foot, ye understand," said Cobbs. " I got a mule, 
 Cessil " (you can image how it pleased Cis to have 
 *' a common man," like Cobbs, make thus free with 
 his fine English Christian name !) — " I got a mule 
 that's hip-short, an' I know how mules does. That's 
 him I ben ridin'. Well, less look furder, so we 
 sha'n't fare wuss." 
 
 A disappointment met them at the onset. The 
 clay bank ascended into the common highway where 
 all the tracks were lost. There was the further 
 chance, too, that the tracks that they had seen 
 might not belong to the marauders, but to peaceful 
 citizens going (on horseback) about their lawful 
 business. 
 
 But they went on until they came to the short 
 cut through the woods to Aunt Pearl Hotchkiss's. 
 
fi. 
 
ON THE TRAIL. 109 
 
 There, more tracks were seen ; only a few in soft 
 places of the road, and these few nearly obliterated ; 
 nevertheless, not to be passed lightly, for Cobbs had 
 fitted his pattern to them, and lo! they were the 
 exact size. Bent on mischief or not, the riders who 
 had crossed the ford had gone on to Aunt Pearl 
 Hotchkiss's. 
 
 Aunt Pearl Hotchkiss,when interrogated, declared 
 nobody had been to see her at all. Further inter- 
 rogated: Well, nobody outen her own fam'ly and 
 looked like dey didn't count ; big sister and her five 
 little tricks, and the preacher, an' may be Br'er 
 Moses mought a-come, but she reckoned dat las' 
 week, kase "Br'er Moses, his health ben mighty 
 triflin', he cramped an' cramped, an' de Lawd on'y 
 knowed what he got inside hissef to cramp him dat a 
 way " — so on through the legion of Brother Moses's 
 " miseries " and " hurtin's," until Sally asked if any 
 of her visitors had come on horseback. At first 
 she was sure that no one had ; then she was sure 
 that Unk' Enoch Diss (an entirely new arrival into 
 the narrative) did ride a mule — " dat lame mule he 
 taken frum de widder Mead on a debt " ; then she 
 could not remember whether Uncle Enoch had act- 
 ually come to her house, or she had seen him at 
 " preachin'." 
 
110 WE ALL. 
 
 " How many lame mules there do seem to be in 
 this country ! " Cecil muttered. 
 
 Yainly they tried to find out something definite 
 from Aunt Pearl ; the more she was questioned the 
 dizzier grew her testimony, and the wilder and 
 more extensive her rambles among her family, and 
 the diseases that had kept her "kin" from her 
 door. 
 
 In despair they bade her good-by. Poor Sally 
 was quite depressed because she neither knew a 
 " plumb sho' cure " for '' bone erysipelas " and 
 " antedelarious fever " (both of which fell and mys- 
 terious diseases were "a-workin' in" Aunt Pearl, 
 for all she looked " so stout and gayly "), nor could 
 she show Aunt Pearl how to crochet a lamp-mat. 
 • " I just don't know anything useful," thought 
 Sally, in much disquietude ; " I'll never go around 
 doing good and being blessed by the poor like Flora 
 Mclvor, or the Dairyman's Daughter." Sally, you 
 see, read old-fashioned books ; Scott and Cooper on 
 week-days and the Dairyman's Daughter on Sun- 
 days, because it was in the Sunday-school library. 
 
 Ally observed her downcast air, although he 
 never would have guessed the reason ; or under- 
 stood it, had any one told him. He rode alongside 
 and tried to cheer her. He didn't ask her what 
 
ON THE TRAIL. m 
 
 was the matter, that wasn't his way ; he remarked : 
 " Say, sis, I don't gness I want my chess-board any 
 more ; you can have it." 
 
 This was Ally's way ; he never approached a 
 subject — he always landed on it with a jump ; by 
 consequence he sometimes sprawled over it. His 
 bluntness was as successful with Sally as the most 
 adroit sympathy. If she hadn't been on horseback, 
 she would have embraced him ; she did give his 
 hand a loving pat, while her eyes flashed and the 
 blood darted up her cheeks. 
 
 "Wliy, Ally Seyton," she cried, "you don't 
 mean it ! Wliy, you said you wouldn't sell it to me 
 for anything I've got ! " 
 
 " "Well, I won't. I give it to you." 
 
 "Wliy?" 
 
 " Oh, 'cause. Put back your eyes, sis, and 'tend 
 to business." 
 
 Keally, Ally's conscience had been prodding him 
 because he had been very sharp with Sally about 
 that chess-board ; she had taken it without leave 
 and, unluckily, lost a man. He upbraided her for 
 losing the man, although it was only a pawn ; and 
 she had crawled under the lounge and two book- 
 cases, and had run a pin beneath her nail, poking 
 her fingers along the crease between the lounge- 
 
112 WE ALL. 
 
 back and seat — which same crease in upholstery is a 
 cruel ambush for pins, the world over. 
 
 And he refused to take a pearl-handled penknife 
 with only one blade broken, or Milly Grant's Mis- 
 sion (an almost new book) or a rose-bud decorated 
 cup and saucer marked " For a Good Girl " ; he 
 said that he wasn't a good girl. 
 
 He told Sally the chess-board was nicer than 
 anything he had on earth, and she had ruined it, 
 and all right for her ; then, he marched away from 
 lier tears. 
 
 This disastrous episode had happened immedi- 
 ately after dinner (while two black boys were chas- 
 ing the horses around a twenty-acre pasture, saddles 
 in hand, and Cecil admired the circus) ; owing to it, 
 Sally started, feeling injured and dejected. 
 
 Ally's kindness sent her mercurial spirits bound- 
 ing up to happiness. She was sure she had been al- 
 together to blame in the skirmish, and that Ally was 
 the kindest, most forgiving brother in the world, 
 and — oh, if papa only would do as she wanted, 
 and get him the watch at Christmas instead of 
 her ! 
 
 Cecil had not taken in the little drama ; he was 
 ahead with Cobbs, with a vigilant eye out for bare 
 spots in the grass where hoof -prints might show. 
 
ON THE TRAIL. 113 
 
 The cavalcade rode on to Peats's and to Looney's 
 and to the other houses of the terrified. Nowhere 
 any reasonable clew ; some dubious trampling in 
 the " little hurd " * or prairie, in the wood close to 
 Looney's corn-crib, a raw slash in a dogwood-bough, 
 as if some one (but what surety that it was an evil- 
 doer?) had clipped a switch, a broken white-clay 
 pipe in a puddle — absolutely nothing more. 
 
 " Reckon we got to give it up an' make tracks 
 for home, missy," Cobbs said, at last. He had but- 
 toned his coat over the clay pipe and sat sidewise 
 in his saddle, gazing in a dejected way at Looney's 
 jagged chimney and squinting windows. 
 
 Two or three curs leaped out of the unknown 
 and snarled and stiffened their tails at Henri — at 
 that moment a blameless dog, trotting in an un- 
 obtrusive bee-line after his master. 
 
 How injudicious of those curs to run after 
 peril ! They should have known that the big dog 
 was not afraid. They should have made a note of 
 his powerful shoulders and jaws like a steel trap, 
 and the wicked Utherness of his whole lank shape. 
 Alas for Watch, Paddy, and Elijah (those doomed 
 dogs' names) ! they were canine swashbucklers ; be- 
 cause they were three to one, they thought they 
 
 * Hood. 
 
114 WE ALL. 
 
 could eat Henri up ; ai^d Poiff! Gr-r-r ! Gor^^u ! 
 they tumbled on hiin in a bunch. 
 
 " Oh, gracious goodness ! " screamed Sally, 
 "they'll Mil Henri." Therewith she was off her 
 horse like a flash, charging on the heap with her 
 riding-whip. 
 
 Ally was not so nimble, but he made his best 
 speed to her, bawling : " Eyes^ sis, eyes ! aim at 
 their eyes ! I'll pull at their tails." 
 
 "Lord sakes, children!" Cobbs shouted, jerk- 
 ing Sally away ; " git clar ! Cayn't ye see Query's 
 ekal to lickin the hull bilin ? — Take Ally off, Cessil, 
 cayn't ye ? " 
 
 Truly Henri was equal to all three, as Cecil 
 (who held the panting Ally) instantly perceived ; 
 with one deadly wriggle, Henri had throttled Ally's 
 captive. He grabbed a large portion of Paddy's 
 left shoulder, then snapped the steel trap on the 
 right fore leg of the howling Elijah. 
 
 Eound and round the heap spun like a futile 
 pin-wheel, fur and foam fl}^ng, the air stabbed by 
 a clamor of barks, sharp and short as fire-crackers. 
 Over the bank into the slash ! Plenty of water to 
 quench their fire ; but they roll and bark and bite 
 through the puddles ! Elijah is underneath ; he 
 slinks out, a gory and sodden beast, who speeds 
 
ON THE TRAIL. II5 
 
 back to liis master. Looney himself hurries on 
 the scene of conflict, a strap in one hand, a razor 
 in the other, using bad language. 
 
 " I'll break you in two ! I'll set de hide on 
 you ! " he yells, " pitchin on to my dog, ye ornery 
 pusillanimous tyke, you ! Quit you' funnin' ! I 
 sho' break you bres'bone \dd dis strap ! " 
 
 "IN'o you won't," says Cobbs. 
 
 "I cut you wid a razor!" shrieks Looney. 
 Whether he means Cobbs or the dog, there is no 
 saying ; most likely he does not know, being in a 
 genuine negro frenzy, brutal, blind, bloodthirsty. 
 
 " Henri ! Henri ! Henri ! " — SaUy tries to call 
 the dog. — '^ Oh, jplease^ Looney, don't hurt him ! 
 it's our dog." 
 
 "TVTiat's the matter with you, Looney?" de- 
 mands Ally, sharply : '' It's our dog." 
 
 He speaks in the assured master's tone, the 
 white man's tone, before which the Southern negro 
 has crouched for generations ; he doesn't dream of 
 being frightened by Looney' s antics. Cecil has his 
 revolver out to flourish in front of Sally ; but 
 Cobbs unceremoniously pins the revolver arm to 
 his side. 
 
 "Groun's the bes' place to aim them tricks, 
 boy," says Cobbs, and shakes a forefinger at 
 
116 WE ALL. 
 
 Looney, instead. " Why, you blamed fool, what 
 are you ra'rin' 'baout ? Look at the dogs ! '' 
 
 He may brace himself as he pleases ; but his 
 father was a slave, and these are white folks. He 
 wavers, drops his razor hand. He does look at the 
 dogs. What a sight to teach magnanimity! The 
 wretched Paddy — Watch dead, and the craven 
 Elijah saving his own skin — has no chance at all ; 
 Henri has gripped him by the throat. He shakes 
 him — and lets him go ! 
 
 " Thar ! That ar's a dog ! " cried Cobbs, slap- 
 ping his thighs gleefully. — " You Looney, you' om- 
 streperous, low-down pizen curs pitched onto that 
 noble animile, three at w^hack, an' look how he 
 lets the least one off ! He jes' natchelly won't 
 condescend to kill him. Now my advice to you 
 are : you light out ayf ter you' dogs ; an' keep that 
 'ar razor er yourn in you bury-drawer for evermore, 
 amen ! " 
 
 Looney scowled ; nevertheless, he turned on his 
 heel and shambled across the frowzy fields into his 
 own yard. 
 
 Sally darted after him before they suspected her 
 intention. She reached him, barely able to gasp : 
 " O Looney, I'm sorry 'bout Watch, but he truly 
 did pitch on to Henri. I don't think they're much 
 
ON THE TRAIL. 117 
 
 hnrt — ^the other dogs, I mean. And if you want to, 
 there's such a cunning little puppy in the stable you 
 can have; looks just like Henri, and he's mighty 
 peart and knowing." 
 
 Looney's rage was the thunder-gust of his race ; 
 he laughed outright : " Laws, missy, I didn't 'low to 
 be so r'arin' and chargin' ; ^ but Mist' Cobbs am so 
 bigetty sometimes, fa'ly gits me outer mysef, till I 
 doesn't know nary. I wudn't hu't a ha'r you' 
 purty haid, nur you' brudder's needer. I jes' ben 
 r'arin'." 
 
 "Well, don't you get to r'arin' any more, 
 Looney," advised Sally. 
 
 Looney promised volubly. She was glad to 
 leave him in a peaceful frame of mind ; she was 
 glad Henri hadn't hurt the dog ; very lightly she 
 danced over the rough ground, with the wild rose 
 in her cheeks and her dark hair floating. 
 
 "Fo' all the worl'," mused the man, watching 
 the pretty shape, " like ' a been ' f a-sailin', or a 
 angil. I sho' Miss Sally git t' heben w'en she die, 
 she got sich a heap er sense." 
 
 * R'arin' and chargin' (rearing and charging) is an Arkansas 
 expression for rage. The metaphor, it is plain, is borrowed from 
 horses. 
 
 t Hen. 
 
118 WE ALL. 
 
 The group that she left were not in the same 
 places ; no, they were down in the " slash," huddled 
 about Henri. Sally's heart gave a great throb — 
 Henri ! was poor Henri hurt ? 
 
 Instantly she was reassured, for she heard Cobbs 
 laugh ; surely, Cobbs wouldn't laugh if Henri were 
 much hurt. Ally beckoned to her. He looked ex- 
 cited ; he swung his fist — ^he swung both fists. 
 
 When she came near, Cecil helped her on to a 
 log in order that she might cross without wetting 
 her feet. 
 
 " That's right, bud," said Cobbs. — " l^ow, missy, 
 I'll tell ye whut 'tis we all gapin' at. — Say, young 
 feller, you bes' tuck that ar gun er yourn closter in 
 you' jacket. I warn't a-goin' to fault you afore the 
 nigger, but thar's a blamed big fine ag'in carryin' 
 concealed weapons in the State of Arkansas, an' 
 they're liable t' enforce it, tew." 
 
 "O Cobbs" — Sally could not control her anx- 
 iety about Henri any longer, having just discovered 
 two piteous, dark, matted spots — '''j^lease^ is Henri 
 hurt bad?" 
 
 " Bless you, naw, missy," said Cobbs ; " them 
 thar's mainly mud. They broke the skin for him in 
 two or three places, but thar ain't nuthin' the matter 
 of him. But it are plumb lucky he had the fight, 
 
ON THE TRAIL. 119 
 
 fur we done met up with that mule's hoffs ag'in, by 
 gum ! Look a thar. Plain's you' nose. I medjured 
 them with the paper, an' it's the same ole cuss." 
 
 Sally looked. There were the mule's tracks and 
 other tracks, or, it might be, the same mule's tracks 
 where he had been restless. 
 
 The one soft bit of ground was in a hollow, 
 behind a cluster of elbow-brush and tear-blankets, 
 thus securely concealed from view whichever side 
 one took to look for it. 
 
 " Coming over to get Henri, I found them," said 
 Cecil ; " it's close by where we found the pipe." 
 
 " Yes," said Sally, " and Cobbs found something 
 else. Somebody struck matches to light a pipe ; 
 there are burnt matches under the tree." 
 
 "Thar was burnt matches thar," said Cobbs, 
 " but they're in my pocket jest now." 
 
 Cobbs had a theory that he expounded on the 
 way home. He said : " Kow, gentlemen an' ladies, 
 ye know the sayin', ^ Go slow an' ye wunt stub yer 
 toes.' I don't wanter decide haff-cock. But it are 
 my opinion that mule is Mist' Henderson. You uns 
 say. How come you say that, Cobbs ? y^Q\\fustly, 
 that mule ben lame, an' Mist' Henderson— (" An- 
 other lame mule ? " exclaimed Cecil) — he ain't lame, 
 but he are so schemy he plays o£E lame ever' time he 
 
120 WE ALL. 
 
 feels tuckered aout, an' craves t' git back t' his cot- 
 ton-seed. That's Mist' Henderson. Secondly, that 
 mule stopped unner that ar hackberry tree — know 
 that by his nibblin' the berries ; an Mist' Henderson 
 loves hackberries much iz a turkey. Aunt Yalley 
 kinder trained them mules t' eat hackberries when 
 she taken 'em, to gentle 'em. Thirdly, ain't Mist' 
 Henderson Dawsey's mule, an' ain't it likely Daw- 
 sey taken his bes' an' obedientest critter on sich a 
 errant '': You bet he wud." 
 
 "But, Cobbs," objected Sally, with an anxious 
 face, " Aunt Yalley, you know ! She saw Dawsey, 
 and he was riding his claybank horse." 
 
 " Well, missy, didn't I told ye go slow an' ye 
 won't stub yer toes ? Who sayd Dawsey rid Mist' 
 Henderson ? I sayd taken. Are you uns putting it 
 up Dawsey cavorted raoun by his 'lone? IS^aw, 
 ma'am. He got his frien's, an' one er the frien's 
 comes up nice an' quiet to the yard an' lopes Mist' 
 Henderson. In cd^se, he don't come the same way 
 nur go the same way like Dawsey ; but they all got 
 thar rendervus, an' they meets." 
 
 " I think so, too," said Ally. 
 
 Cobbs gave the boy a kindly look. " Laws, but 
 ye do p'intedly favor you' paw, sometimes, Ally," 
 said he ; " ye got a turn, when ye talk, mighty much 
 
ON THE TRAIL. 121 
 
 like liim. "Well, I ben sayin', yere's this tumble 
 wicked man a-pesterin' us for years ; now, we got a 
 show t' send him to the penertenshury, an' I say less 
 do it. Tain't a much bad thing he done, I admit ; 
 nobuddy killed up, an' nare plunder stole, nur nare 
 chickens gone, but no matter! He aimed to do 
 bad things, if he didn't done 'em — spile cunnel's 
 crap an' skeer up his renters. An' I reckon you 
 know cunnel's fixin' to send a detective from Little 
 Eock to snoop aout the hull meanness." 
 
 " A detective ? " said Cecil ; " 0, yes, that's what 
 Cousin Richard meant by his plan. I understand." 
 
 Alan and Sally had known before ; they simply 
 nodded. 
 
 ^' An' I are savin' all the truck for him when he 
 comes," said Cobbs ; "an' to my thinkin' he'll say 
 we uns done a good evenin's work tliis day." 
 
CHAPTER yiL 
 
 THE DETECTIVE. 
 
 " He's come ! " cried Sally. 
 
 Ally and Cecil were sitting on the uneven 
 steps of the store piazza; in the dusky vista be- 
 hind them, shoulders of pork swinging from huge 
 hooks, gleaming pans, rusty iron pots and kettles, 
 and huge meat-blocks, dimly shaped themselves to 
 one side, and, on the other, the paraphernalia of 
 drugs and groceries were displayed against a back- 
 ground of ready-made clothing, dry-goods and bon- 
 nets. 
 
 Cecil found endless amusement in " the store," 
 which seemed to him an untidy imitation of the 
 " fairs " and such like shops in cities — places where 
 respectable people only ventured out of curiosity, 
 with the prospect of having their pockets picked. 
 
 " Who's come ? " said Ally. 
 
 It was a week after Larry had been safely 
 
THE DETECTIVE. 123 
 
 stowed away. To-day was the first time that 
 they had heard from Aunt Yalley. True, the 
 wagon had gone to the station for supplies more 
 than once ; but the children had not ventured to 
 send any messenger less trusty than Cobbs to Aunt 
 Yalley; and Cobbs regarded the regular black- 
 smith work as much too important to be put aside 
 for Larry. 
 
 "And he is right enough," sensible Ally de- 
 clared when Sally would have criticised ; " folks 
 have got to have their wagon-tires mended, for the 
 hauling, and the mill's out of gear somehow, and 
 Cobbs has got to mend it." 
 
 But, yesterday, Cobbs had received a letter from 
 the colonel — a letter for himself — which required a 
 great deal of pondering over, behind a pair of huge 
 steel-rimmed spectacles, and finally a consultation 
 with Ally. Then it was announced that Cobbs him- 
 self would go in the morning with the wagon to the 
 station. 
 
 Sally had been waiting, evidently excited ; and 
 Ally himself, under his phlegmatic exterior, showed 
 signs of interest. 
 
 " Who's come ? " he repeated, impatiently. 
 
 He jumped up as he spoke, motioning to Cecil 
 to follow, and drew Sally nearer the river-bank, 
 
124 WE ALL. 
 
 quite out of ear-shot, should any of the loungers in 
 the store chance to be listening. 
 
 " We are going to tell you," Sally said to Cecil. 
 " Papa said we might, but it's a dead secret to every- 
 body except Cobbs and the overseer. Cobbs went 
 to fetch the detective. He's come." 
 
 Cecil's composure yielded a little to the de- 
 mands of the occasion. He had read Gaboreau's 
 novels, and a detective was a wonderful creature 
 to him. 
 
 " Let's get closer and hear him talk," Ally pro- 
 posed ; " he's talking now." 
 
 " Do you reckon he'll find out 'bout old man 
 Dawsey to-day?" 
 
 Ally w^as not sure ; may be by to-morrow, he 
 thought. 
 
 " You know all about detectives, don't you. 
 Cousin Cecil ? " Sally said, turning her brilliant eyes 
 on Cecil, wistfully. 
 
 He was half sorry to dampen their sanguine 
 faith ; but he confessed that " Pinkerton's men " 
 usually took longer than a day to probe a mysteri- 
 ous crime. 
 
 Then the three went around to the other end of 
 the store where the detective was. 
 
 "You mustn't be surprised at his looking so 
 
THE DETECTIVE. 125 
 
 poor and mean," wliispered Sally ; " he's in dis- 
 guise." 
 
 Certainly the detective did not look imposing, 
 being a commonplace, fat yomig man, who was 
 neither any cleaner nor any less ragged than the 
 motley crowd around the store. He spoke with 
 an Arkansas accent ; but on the whole he was a 
 rather taciturn fellow, who made his eyes work for 
 his mouth. 
 
 Cobbs introduced him to the company gener- 
 ally. " Well, picked up a new helper at the depot, 
 if I didn't get my gears." 
 
 The new helper's name, it appeared, was 
 Mitchell. 
 
 "That isn't his real name," Sally hastened to 
 inform Cecil in a whisper, cut short by Ally's warn- 
 ing frown. 
 
 " He looks like an awful chump," Cecil said to 
 
 Ally. 
 
 " But he's getting them to talk," said Ally, very 
 low. 
 
 IN'ot for the first time Cecil was struck by a cer- 
 tain shrewdness in Ally, for whom, in the main, he 
 felt a quiet contempt. 
 
 "Look at Aunt Yalley," the unconscious Ally 
 continued ; " ain't she giving it to Dawsey ! " 
 
126 WE ^^^' 
 
 Aunt Yalley had come to the store to trade. 
 She was in her Sunday gown, a remarkable com- 
 bination of no less than three gowns — sleeves of 
 one, body of another, and skirt of a third — all of 
 gay material, clean and whole. Aunt Yalley, hav- 
 ing a thrifty soul, saw no reason why she should 
 give up the good part of a frock because the other 
 parts were worn ; she simply made as much of a 
 dress out of her material as she could, and pieced 
 out deficiencies with something else, only particular 
 that the addition should be gay : by consequence, 
 her presence commonly reminded one of a second- 
 hand rainbow. 
 
 At this moment a dozen colors were flashing in 
 the air, while her arms gyrated over the twentieth 
 repetition of her glimpse of Dawsey. 
 
 " And to t'ink," she cried, " how it ben Abram 
 Linkum, dat mule ben de mos' petted on po' Mist' 
 Henderson, dat ben de cause o' me wakin' an' watch- 
 in'!" 
 
 "But she said before it was Melodeon," said 
 Sally. 
 
 " May be she forgot," said Ally ; " I thought she 
 said Melodeon." 
 
 " She did, " said Cecil. 
 
 But, at any rate, Abraham Lincoln was getting 
 
THE DETECTIVE. 127 
 
 all the credit now. She dilated on his intelligence, 
 and from him she passed sadly to the lamented 
 Mr. Henderson's rare gifts. It was an easy transi- 
 tion back to Dawsey again. 
 
 The crowd had no good word for him. Indeed, 
 when a tall, grinning black man said that it would 
 be the best thing to run him out of the country, 
 there was a general hum of approval. 
 
 " You wudn't objeck, wud ye, Kufe ? " some one 
 said, addressing a sullen-looking negro, who, so far, 
 had not said a word. 
 
 " I ain't complainin'," he answered, turning on 
 his heel. 
 
 " Had he ought to complain ? " Mitchell asked, 
 in his sluggish voice. 
 
 " Wa'al, ole man Dawsey chiseled him outer 
 eight hundred dollars, pension money, sellin' him a 
 fyarm for sixteen, and promisin' him long time and 
 not givin' it, an' selHn' him up minnit the note 
 come due." 
 
 Some one else added to the story. The de- 
 tective listened to each talker. At the same time 
 he gradually edged his robust person nearer the 
 door. 
 
 Any one who stood in the south doorway could 
 see Ruf e Baxter, with his hands in his pockets and 
 
128 WE ALL. 
 
 his head bent, the apex, as it were, of a dusky pyra- 
 mid, grouped about the plows on the shore. 
 
 Presently he disengaged himseK and the pyramid 
 dissolved. Eufe moved toward his ferry-boat (he 
 was the ferryman), casting not a glance behind. 
 
 But Aunt Yalley watched him untie the scow ; 
 watched him row across the river with strong, clean 
 strokes ; watched him land, and then watched him 
 walk rapidly into the forest. 
 
 All the while she was smiling. "When Ruf e was 
 out of sight, she mounted her mule and went her 
 way. 
 
 " Why, Abraham Lincoln is lame ! " said Ally. 
 
 " Another ! " said Cecil. " I'm going to keep 
 count." 
 
 " Then Aunt Yalley ought not to ride him," 
 said Sally. 
 
 " He isn't exactly lame," Cecil remarked, after a 
 moment's scrutiny ; " he has string-halt ; it doesn't 
 hurt him to ride him." 
 
 Ally looked at his cousin admiringly. " You 
 know oodles about horses, don't you, Cis ? Come, 
 let's get closer and hear what they're saying." 
 
 The two boys hung about the store and the 
 blacksmith's shop all the morning. The teacher 
 being ill, there was no school, for which release, I 
 
THE DETECTIVE. 129 
 
 must confess, Cecil was quite as thankful as idle 
 Ally. The truth is, he had encountered so many 
 disreputable-looking little boys and girls, on appar- 
 ently the most familiar and happy terms with Ally 
 — all of whom, Ally told him, " went to our school " 
 — that he looked forward to school as to a night- 
 mare. 
 
 But his politeness never failed him, and I doubt 
 whether Ally suspected in what a tumult of disgust 
 his young guest's soul was ; sitting in a narrow boat, 
 next some particularly grimy and unkempt com- 
 rade of Ally's, or forced to draw up to a hospitable 
 board (covered with brown oil-cloth) and try to eat 
 strange mixtures of grease and dirt, the very sight 
 of which sent cold chills down his back. 
 
 Ally ate like the unf astidious savage he was ; but 
 Cis thought often that the horrors of an ocean voy- 
 age were much overrated; he preferred them to 
 fried pork. 
 
 Yet he was by no means dull. There is a con- 
 stant ripple of small excitements on a plantation. 
 Every morning, for instance, the mail-rider, who 
 was a boy hardly older than Ally, rode his white 
 Texan pony up to the store, and the letters were col- 
 lected and names called by the head clerk in the 
 store, assistant postmaster. Colonel Seyton was the 
 
130 WE ALL. 
 
 postmaster, and tlie post-office was neatly built into 
 the far corner of tlie store, which, was not asking 
 much of the store either, since it consisted of noth- 
 ing more than a writing-desk, with a frame of letter- 
 boxes. 
 
 Twice a week, sometimes oftener, Cecil heard 
 from his father — short letters ; but how eagerly he 
 read them ! 
 
 Sally and Alan heard every day, either from 
 Colonel Seyton or their mother. The invalid in 
 Little Rock was better ; next week Mrs. Seyton 
 hoped to come home. 
 
 " Well," was Ally's ungracious comment, " next 
 to her dying, I reckon her getting well is the best 
 thing can happen." 
 
 "We oughtn't to wish anybody dead," said 
 Sally ; " it's a great deal nicer for her to get well." 
 
 " 'No it ain't," answered Ally, bluntly, " an' you 
 know it ! If she was dead, she couldn't be forever 
 tolling mamma off, could she ; or coming here and 
 snooping round and dying when I tried to have ice- 
 cream ? Ko, sir ! " 
 
 " Well, she ain't always mean. She gave me a 
 doll once," Sally pleaded ; " and mamma says it's 
 like being a murderer to wish folks dead." 
 
 Ally declined to discuss the moralities. He 
 
THE DETECTIVE. 131 
 
 proposed, instead, that tliey should go and ask 
 Cobbs when the wild-hog hunt was coming off. 
 
 " Because Cis and I are to go," said Ally. 
 
 " O Ally, papa wouldn't let you ! " 
 
 " He said, himseK, last time, I could go to the 
 next hunt." 
 
 " But he thought he would be here." 
 
 "Pshaw ! Cobbs can take me. He knows 
 more about pig-killing than anybody ; papa says 
 80 himself." 
 
 "Cobbs won't take you, not while papa is 
 away," said Sally, firmly. Alan only grinned. 
 
 The great hog-hunt, or rather its discussion with 
 Cobbs, and the listening to recitals of gorgeous and 
 blood-curdling perils in former hunts, was another 
 excitement. 
 
 Then, almost every day, the wagon went to the 
 railway station. To watch for its return, to open 
 the freight-boxes and express packages — here was 
 at least an hour of delight, every time. 
 
 These were every-day diversions. Of a more 
 unusual and vastly more thrilling nature was the 
 negro scare. It was something impressive and im- 
 portant to have a proclamation, from the Governor 
 of the State of Arkansas, tacked up on the door (in- 
 side and out) of your store, offering five hundred 
 9 
 
132 WE ALL. 
 
 dollars reward to any one (it might be you your- 
 self) who should discover the perpetrators of an out- 
 rage committed in your own neighborhood. The 
 " renters " and " hands," and the stray farmers trad- 
 ing at the store, used to spell out the notice for 
 themselves ; and Mr. Crane, the head clerk, would 
 read the telegrams in the ITorthern papers sent to 
 Cecil, and the astonishing editorial inferences and 
 eloquence thereon, to a proud and solemn audience, 
 that plainly felt the eyes of the world upon them. 
 
 Under such circumstances Cecil could not be 
 dull; but he sometimes was poignantly unhappy. 
 The poor, proud, foolish lad, who only found one 
 companionship precious, missed that all the time. 
 He was homesick for his father. 
 
 Sally was his best comforter, because she would 
 tell him stories that her mother had told her, about 
 the time when the two cousins used to play togeth- 
 er, like brother and sister. Listening to these sim- 
 ple narratives, Cecil came, by degrees, to under- 
 stand something that was the puzzle of his whole 
 childhood — why his father kept Cousin Emily's 
 picture in his desk, and was always suggesting gifts 
 for him to give the Seytons ; and spoke of Colonel 
 Seyton and his wife as if they were better than 
 any one else in the world ; whereas his mother 
 
THE DETECTIVE. I33 
 
 took pains to inform him that they were very ordi- 
 nary people, not at all rich or important. 
 
 More than once his father had described liis 
 years down South with Colonel Seyton immediately 
 after the war ; but it was so much more vivid hear- 
 ing the story on the very spot, with Sally to empha- 
 size every scene by — " There, look across the river ; 
 that's where they landed the raft"; or, "Your 
 father used to sit on that lounge and hold his 
 head so, and talk to papa and mamma about his 
 schemes." 
 
 All the schemes had been realized, Cis knew; 
 and he knew that his father's old friend was a poor 
 man, according to I^orthern standards ; yet he felt a 
 little thrill of anger over his mother's blunders. 
 
 " I believe he is happier than dad," Cis told 
 himself, " and he is of just as much importance in 
 Arkansas as dad is in Chicago. Yes, he is more 
 important, because there is a lot of other million- 
 aires in Chicago ; and he can't ride all day on his 
 own land, and have everybody take off his hat to 
 him, like Cousin Eichard. Mamma never ccm see 
 anything unless it jumps at the eyes ! " 
 
 Decidedly, Cecil was not respectful to his 
 mother. 
 
 When his black moods fell on him, Cecil wel- 
 
134 WE ALL. 
 
 corned any distraction. He flung himself into the 
 detective business to-day with ardor. 
 
 There was not much to reward the boy's wait- 
 ing. Mitchell very soon sauntered over to the 
 smithy, where he spent the entire morning, ham- 
 mering at wagon-tires. 
 
 The smithy stood under a giant "overcup'* 
 oak, hardly a stone's-throw from the store. One 
 might see a pile of plows and stalk-cutters at the 
 door any day, waiting their turn at the forge, that 
 glimmered like a great red eye out of the dusk. 
 
 A curving road swung past the smithy, by a few 
 cabins, to dip into the cypress-brake, beyond the hill. 
 
 The brake always gave Cecil a lonesome, shivery 
 feeling. Indeed, a cypress-brake, in winter, is more 
 than desolate ; it has a sinister mystery about it, like 
 the scene of a forgotten horror, with its uncanny 
 growth of knees, and stumps, and blotched hack- 
 berry-trunks ; and the wind skulking amid the 
 stripped branches ; and the black, fiat water plane 
 that has no ripple, only haunting shadows of the 
 ruined forest. Strange shapes waver in the water, 
 elusive, monstrous ; they are not tree-columns or 
 cypress-knees ; they are the awful, unspeakable se- 
 crets of the forest, telling themselves in pictures. 
 
 At least that is what Sally told Cecil they were 
 
THE DETECTIVE. 135 
 
 one day when tliey were very friendly together. 
 Ally wasn't with them. Ally did not think any 
 fanciful things about the brake. 
 
 Sometimes the brake fascinated Cecil (who did 
 think fanciful things), sometimes he hated it — to- 
 day, for instance, because he had not received the 
 anticipated letter from his father. 
 
 It looked drearier than ever as he passed, and 
 it was a moment before he perceived that there was 
 a reason ; the little flutter of human life and color 
 that the gypsy camp had made on its edge, had 
 vanished. The camp-fires were gray ashes ; the 
 tents were gone ; nothing remained but a squalid 
 wreckage of chicken-feathers and tin cans. 
 
 It happened that Mitchell walked homeward 
 with the boys. He was to lodge with Cobbs; 
 and the old black woman, who came over every 
 day to do Cobbs's cooking (as much as he would 
 allow her, that is, for Cobbs had gifts of his own 
 with the kitchen stove, and stern principles), was 
 preparing a "plumb good dinner" in honor of a 
 visit from Ally and Cecil. I believe that Cecil was 
 to taste his first 'possum on this occasion. 
 
 Mitchell looked discontentedly at the abandoned 
 camp. He made numerous inquiries regarding the 
 gypsies and their ways. 
 
136 WE ALL. 
 
 "Why, you don't suspect them, do you, Mr. 
 Mitcliell ? " cried Ally. He walked at one elbow 
 of the great man, and Cecil at the other. 
 
 " E'ever can tell," said Mitchell. 
 
 "You can talk freely with us, Mr. Mitchell," 
 Cecil observed, with a condescending desire to put 
 the man at his ease. Master Cecil was accustomed 
 to deference, and he did not yet realize that he had 
 left deference behind him at the North. " Colonel 
 Seyton has told us about you." 
 
 " Oh, that's all right," said Mitchell. He did 
 not appear to need any putting at his ease. 
 
 Ally, who was watching his every motion, from 
 the way he held his hands in his pockets to the 
 way he chewed tobacco, modestly asked if Cobbs 
 had given him the handkerchief and the other 
 things. 
 
 Yes, Cobbs had given him them all, and told 
 him about it ; but he would like to hear what the 
 boys thought. 
 
 " He can tell better than me," said Ally, point- 
 ing at Cecil ; and Cecil, nothing loath, told all that 
 he knew. 
 
 The detective's questions were few, and some of 
 them quite inexplicable to the boys. Why should 
 he want to know about Cobbs's disputes with the 
 
THE DETECTIVE. 137 
 
 darkeys, or Mr. Crane's row with Aunt Pearl 
 Hotclikiss? He made no comments. 
 
 "Don't you think Dawsey did it?" Cecil 
 asked. 
 
 " ISTever can tell," said Mitchell. 
 
 He certainly didn't tell, whether he could or 
 not ; and although they went back part way to the 
 shop, after dinner, not another word did they get 
 from him. 
 
 "I reckon he's ciphering it out, don't you?" 
 said Ally. 
 
 "He's either very deep or very stupid," said 
 Cecil ; " I'm not quite sure which." 
 
CHAPTEK YIII. 
 
 HOW CECIL MAKES ACQUAINTANCE WITH JITDGE LYNCH. 
 
 The boys liad been out for a long ride, and 
 were glad to warm themselves by tbe fire. It was 
 the day after Mitchell's arrival. Cecil was just in- 
 quiring of Ally what they should do next, when 
 Sally ran in with pale face and sparkling eyes. 
 She came very close to the boys and cried in an 
 agitated whisper : 
 
 "O Ally Seyton, what do you reckon they're 
 aiming to do ? " 
 
 "What?" said Ally, stolidly. 
 
 "They are going to lynch old man Dawsey 
 to-night ! " 
 
 "Shucks! I don't believe it. "Who told you?" 
 
 Sally's information came from a dialogue that 
 she had overheard, she being in the " dark closet " 
 where the meat was kept ; and the speakers, Aunt 
 Cindy and her nephew, Kufe Baxter, outside on the 
 steps. 
 
CECIL'S ACQUAINTANCE WITH JUDGE LYNCH. 139 
 
 Two white men liad proposed the lynching. 
 Like Baxter, they had lost their little worldly all, 
 through Dawsey's hard-hearted greed. Baxter, 
 himself, though a merry, good-natured negro, where 
 Dawsey was concerned was in a state of mind ripe 
 for any violence. The negroes of the settlement 
 inclined to panic rather than revenge ; but Aunt 
 Yalley and Baxter, together, had succeeded in 
 arousing them. 
 
 Aunt Cindy was a pacific soul. She discour- 
 aged Eufe's riotous schemes. 
 
 " Let de Lawd punish dat wicked man, honey," 
 she had said. " Doan you go devilin' wdd bad white 
 f olkses ; you get in a right smart er trouble fust you 
 knows." 
 
 " I'll nev' get in no trouble lickin' ole Dawsey," 
 Euf e answered. " We all doesn't aim t' kill him ; 
 jes' giv him de bud good, an' warn him t' light out 
 o' dis kentry. Oh, doan ye take on ; he ain't got 
 a frien' on earth." 
 
 "Waal, but he got a w'ite skin," said Aunt 
 Cindy; "tell ye, nigger, de w'ite folkses won't 
 enjure havin' de culled folkses punish dar wick'- 
 ness. ISTaw, honey ; wait on de Law^d ; dat man 
 git his desarvins sho' ! " 
 
 At this climax of the conversation. Aunt Cindy 
 
140 WE ALL. 
 
 must needs get up, and tliey both moved away ; 
 nor could Sally catch a word of Baxter's sullen 
 reply. 
 
 " But I'm sure he won't give in, and they will 
 go and whip Dawsey, just as he said," was her 
 conclusion. 
 
 Ally laughed at first. ""We shall be rid of a 
 great rascal," said he. " What are you looking 
 so queer about, sis ? " 
 
 " Do you reckon they'll whip him very hard ? " 
 Sally inquired. 
 
 " Not half as hard as he deserves, I know that." 
 
 Sally's face changed ; rather timidly she said : 
 " Don't you think it would be just as well to scare 
 him awfully, tell him they were fixing to whip him, 
 and may be swing the switches round and make a 
 noise in the air, Hke Cobbs when he is driving IN'et 
 and Jake ; and then let him off if he's sorry and 
 will go away and never come back ? " 
 
 Ally's blue eyes opened wider; his stolid face 
 assumed by degrees an expression of indignant 
 scorn, before Avhich poor Sally quailed. 
 
 " I do believe," said Ally, slowly, " you're sorry 
 for old Dawsey." 
 
 " ISTo, I ain't," protested Sally ; " but it must 
 hurt so to be whipped." 
 
CECIL'S ACQUAINTANCE WITH JUDGE LYNCH. 141 
 
 " He ought to be hurt," said Ally, firmly ; " it's 
 only justice." Ally had reached the age when a 
 boy is a great stickler for justice. "Why, I've 
 heard you wish him a thrashing many a time, 
 yourself, just like he gave Mr. Henderson." 
 
 " I know," Sally admitted, meekly, " but then I 
 was mad at him. It's so hard to hurt people when 
 you ain't mad at them." 
 
 " When I'm mad, I stay mad," said AUy with 
 much loftiness, " but that's just Hke girls, get mad 
 at nothing and get over it for nothing." 
 
 Sally, crushed not only by the consciousness of 
 her indi^ddual weak-mindedness, but by this sting- 
 ing estimate of her weak-minded sex, looked ready 
 to cry ; and (doubtless again Hke a girl) took refuge 
 in an entirely different reason. " Anyhow, papa 
 wouldn't like it while he was away ; and to have 
 the darkeys lynch a white man ! It would mad the 
 white folks." 
 
 Ally bit his lip. He flung the stick in his 
 hand at the blaze with an angry motion, muttering, 
 " Well, why couldn't you say that in the first place ? " 
 
 Cecil wondered what the boy was thinking about 
 as he thrust his hands into his pockets, and frowned 
 out of the window at the river. Sally did not vent- 
 ure to interrupt. 
 
142 WE ALL. 
 
 " Yet she is four times as bright as he," Cecil 
 said to himself ; " what does she see in him ? If I had 
 a sister, I'd treat her politely. He is a young cub." 
 
 Eeally, Ally was no franker than brothers in 
 general, who are not apt to use a harmful flattery 
 to their sisters, but rather to help them amend their 
 faults by faithfully and carefully pointing them 
 out ; and he was in general very kind to Sally ; 
 sometimes he almost forgot that she was a girl, he 
 liked her so much. I dare say Cecil's sister would 
 have been taken to task quite as much as Ally's. 
 Finally, the boy looked up. 
 
 " It can't go on, for a fact, sissy," said he, with a 
 deep sigh. " I'm sure Cobbs will say that it would 
 make a racket. "We've got to stop it." 
 
 " I hate to tell on them," said Sally. 
 
 Cecil smiled over another inconsistency ; but 
 here brother and sister were in full accord. 
 
 " No, we can't tell on them, to hurt them," said 
 AUy. 
 
 Cecil suggested consulting with the detective, 
 having him warn Dawsey. 
 
 "Then, you see, Dawsey would feel friendly 
 toward Mitchell and wouldn't suspect him," said 
 the small man of the world, who had read detect- 
 ive novels. 
 
CECIL'S ACQUAINTANCE WITH JUDGE LYNCH. I4.3 
 
 Sally's lip quivered with an impulsive speech, 
 promptly suppressed ; but Ally spoke out bluntly : 
 "I don't just like fooling even a mean man like 
 Dawsey — pretending to be friends, all the while 
 you're fixing to do him a meanness." 
 
 Cecil was too polite to smile or to shrug his 
 shoulders ; besides, his father disliked the French 
 trick, and he was trying to unlearn it ; instead, he 
 said gravely that spies were not pleasant, but they 
 were a necessary evil. How did they expect to 
 catch Dawsey, anyhow? 
 
 " Oh, I reckon we got to do it," said Ally. 
 
 " I think you were mighty bright to think of 
 Mr. Mitchell, Cousin Cecil," said Sally; "all I 
 could think of was to write Dawsey a note telling 
 him to keep away to-night. And that wouldn't 
 have done much good, I reckon." 
 
 " :Nrot a bit," said Ally. 
 
 " I know what you thought of. Ally," said Cecil. 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " Talk it over with Cobbs." 
 
 Ally grinned, as usual. " Cobbs knows a heap," 
 said he, cheerfully. "That was just what I was 
 thinking." 
 
 Cobbs was in the smithy shoeing a horse, and it 
 needed very little management on Sally's part to 
 
144 WE ALL. 
 
 entice him out. The three children walked along 
 the river-bank with him. His first emotion over 
 the news was amusement. 
 
 " Laws, there hain't been a lynchin' in these yere 
 pyarts for twenty year ; and to think er the darkeys 
 gettin' up one now ! " 
 
 But he grew serious directly, for he appreciated 
 the unwisdom of of negroes lynching white people. 
 
 " An' I never did see no good in lynchin', no- 
 ways," he moraHzed, " though I mus' say, if thar's a 
 critter livin' desarves a dose, it's Mat Dawsey ! But 
 lynchin's tew much like marryin', t' my mind — ye 
 ain't sartin till it's tew late ! — "Well, Ally, reckon 
 you bes' run tell Mist' Mitchell suthin's outer j'int 
 with one of them thar stalk-cutters, an' I wished 
 he'd sa'nter over an' look at it with me."« 
 
 Presently, the children could see Mitchell and 
 Cobbs bending over the stalk-cutters; then, in a 
 little while Mitchell walked away, to mount a horse 
 and ride do^vn the road leading to the station — or to 
 Dawsey's. He rode very fast. 
 
CHAPTEE IX. 
 
 NORTH AND SOUTH. 
 
 The living-room of the Seytons was a square- 
 cornered room on the first story, fronting the river ; 
 so large that, according to the Seyton tradition, the 
 Seyton babies used to get lost in it. 
 
 It was a cheerful room, because the south sun 
 had a chance, with the long windows on the right 
 side, in spite of the veranda shadows in front ; and 
 it was a pretty room, because the cheap furnishings 
 were new and harmonious, and the shabby furnish- 
 ings were old enough to be interesting. 
 
 Cecil approved of the soft terra-cotta hangings 
 that threw out so well the plaster bas-reliefs and the 
 photographs of great pictures, and helped the tar- 
 nished gilt frames of the old portraits. He liked 
 the colors of the curtains, he liked the ingrain rug, 
 and the painted floor. All the furniture was older 
 than the war, except the piano and the gum-wood 
 book-cases, masterpieces of Cobbs ; and some of 
 
146 WE ALL. 
 
 the quaintly carved tables, the two spindle-legged, 
 damask-seated chairs, and the rose-wood spinet with 
 yellow ivory keys, had belonged to the generation 
 of the brilliant dame in powder and brocade on the 
 east wall, who had danced with "Washington. 
 
 More ancient, even, embellished likewise by 
 pathetic associations, as w^ell as most beautiful mar- 
 queterie, was Mrs. Seyton's writing-desk. It had 
 come over mth the first Seyton, and his young 
 daughter (what a pity there was no portrait of her !) 
 on this desk had written all her love-letters to her 
 betrothed in England, who was to be lost at sea, 
 coming over to marry her. She only mourned 
 him two months, since (according to an old, old 
 letter, still preserved in that very desk) " she fell 
 into a wasting fever with grieving, whereof she 
 died." 
 
 But the most intimate affections of the Seytons 
 clustered about the lounge. Alan and Sally had 
 gamboled on it as babies, and coasted down its sleek 
 leather-covered arms as children, and reclined on it 
 covered with the afghan w^henever they w^ere ill 
 enough for cossetings, but not ill enough for bed 
 and doses. Dainties, and nice drinks, and oranges, 
 were privileges of the lounge. Mamma always read 
 to the lounge, and papa would tell stories or play 
 
NORTH AND SOUTH. 147 
 
 cards and chess. And of what consequence on earth 
 was it that two of the springs were broken ? 
 
 On this lounge sat Ally Seyton, the night of the 
 lynching, tempting every other weakling spring to 
 break, so violently did he bounce up and down. 
 Ally was in a fume. 
 
 " It's just awful to be children ! " groaned he. 
 He varied the bounces by a furious kick. " Think 
 of it," he cried, vehemently ; " there they've all gone 
 to the lynching, every nigger on the place, and 
 w^ve got to stay at home ! I never saw a man rid- 
 den on a rail. I couldn't go to the circus either, 
 'cause I was sick. And now I've got to miss this ! " 
 
 " I suppose Cobbs has gone," said Ally's only 
 listener, Cecil. Sally was in the kitchen making a 
 great mess with molasses candy, to console the boys. 
 
 " Cobbs and Crane and half a dozen white men. 
 So in case MitcheU can't persuade Dawsey to light 
 out, they can stop the fun. Cobbs said it wouldn't 
 do for me to go ! Like to know why not ; now 
 papa's away I'm the master of the plantation, and I 
 had ought to go to keep the peace. Cobbs is almost 
 as fussy as Sally. What do you think ? He won't 
 let us go on the hog-hunt to-morrow! " 
 
 He touched Cecil now, for he was eager for the 
 
 hunt. 
 
 10 
 
148 WE ALL. 
 
 " I call that mean of Cobbs," cried Cecil. 
 
 " Oh, no, it ain't," said Ally, loyal to Cobbs in 
 spite of his pique ; " it's only he's afraid something 
 will happen when papa's away. But papa promised 
 me to go next time. I tell yon, Cis — " He stopped. 
 Then, he dropped his voice. " What do you say to 
 going, anyhow ? " 
 
 " How can you ? " 
 
 "Oh, easy 'nough. You see they're going on 
 the road's far's the big bayou and strike into the 
 woods. They'll be eight on horseback and a wagon 
 and mules, and we can follow the wagon-tracks; 
 they will make a plain trail. You see Cobbs won't 
 mind after we once get there, and he didn't let us ; 
 and papa won't mind at all, when he gets home, 
 'cause it will be all over, then, anyhow ; and he told 
 me I could go next time, you know. I don't reckon 
 anybody will mind 'cept Sally, and if she don't 
 know we're gone she won't mind, either." 
 
 Cecil wanted to go to the hunt. He was accus- 
 tomed to gratify his wishes without thinking very 
 much of other people ; indeed, I am afraid Cecil, 
 for all his politeness, was in a fair way to become a 
 selfish fellow. He found Ally's reasoning very 
 plausible. 
 
 Ally had more conscience to stifle, in the mat- 
 
NORTH AND SOUTH. 149 
 
 ter ; but to go to this very hunt had been his ardent 
 desire for a year past, and the temptation was too 
 strong. 
 
 " Sally's only a girl, anyhow," so he combated 
 his inward protest ; " she's always afraid something 
 will go wrong when mamma's away. I think she'd 
 like to sit up nights to see the house doesn't take 
 fire. We won't let on anything to her ; she can't 
 expect to go everywhere I do. She wouldn't be 
 any use in a hog-hunt ; 'sides, she'd say it was wrong 
 to go. We'll both go off to-morrow right after 
 breakfast, and we'll leave word with Yance we 
 won't be back to dinner, and she'll think we've 
 gone to see Larry, so she won't worry." 
 
 Cis acquiesced, and Ally developed his plans. 
 
 "It's a shame Larry's hiding, or else he. could 
 go, too. He never does have any fun. I say, 
 though, may be he'll see the lynching. Like's not 
 Aunt Yalley will take him." Ally drew a deep 
 sigh. " Like's not by this time they've got to the 
 house and are hollering for him to come out. Laws, 
 how I wish I could see it! I never did see a 
 lynching. Cobbs has seen three, and he saw a man 
 hanged once." 
 
 "That could hardly be a pleasant sight," said 
 Cecil, dryly. 
 
150 WE ALL. 
 
 " Oh, lie was a bad man," Ally said, easily. " It 
 was all right, but I don't guess Cobbs liked it much, 
 either, 'cause he said he'd had a heap more fun at 
 his sister's wedding. Hullo ! here's sis, with a 
 power of candy." 
 
 l!^aturally, the subject was changed. 
 
 In the morning Cecil feared lest AUy should not 
 hold to his purpose, but a series of winks and grins 
 during breakfast, when innocent Sally was condol- 
 ing with the boys, because they must miss the hog- 
 hunt, reassured him. 
 
 " She don't suspect nothing," said Ally ; " I sorter 
 hate not to tell her, after all, but, as Cobbs says, 
 * what the mind don't know the heart can't grieve.' 
 Come on, let's see them off ! " 
 
 The little procession was just trotting down into 
 the bottom ; the boys were barely in time to see the 
 last of the riders disappear behind the hill. 
 
 " That's Mr. Cobbs on the lame mule, ain't it ? 
 Say, that mule can outjump any hoss on the place," 
 remarked a drawling voice at Cis's elbow ; and the 
 man called Mitchell sat down beside the two boys. 
 
 Both of them turned on him eyes full of in- 
 terest. 
 
 " O Mr. Mitchell," cried Ally, eagerly, yet try- 
 ing to be cautious, "did you hear anything of a 
 
NORTH AND SOUTH. 151 
 
 lot of folks going to lynch old man Dawsey, last 
 night?" 
 
 Mitchell whistled. " Well, now, even the kids 
 have got on to it ! Yes, there been a considerable of 
 a crowd round there, last night. I rode up myself, 
 hearing there was likely to be a row. But some 
 way the old man wasn't at home ; and Mr. Cobbs 
 he quieted them down all right. Some folks said 
 the old man got warning, some way. Anyway, he'd 
 lit a shuck, and there wasn't a soul about." 
 
 " Then they didn't do anything ? " said Ally, his 
 mind divided between relief and a certain disap- 
 pointment. " Of course, I didn't want them to do 
 anything," he added, quickly. 
 
 " Well, no, nothin' was did ; looked like there 
 wasn't nothin' to do. Some way he'd cleared out 
 all his stock. Did hear he'd sold some of it mighty 
 cheap to Mr. Cobbs and that mule he had they 
 were sayin' had run off. Rufe was for burnin' 
 down the house, but Mr. Cobbs dissuaded him. 
 Cayn't he talk ? I don't guess any other man could 
 have quieted those darkeys down like he done. 
 And yet they say he's down on niggers, too ; don't 
 like to have 'em round." 
 
 " That's a lie," said Ally, calmly. 
 
 " Why, I understood he's been having trouble 
 
152 WE ALL. 
 
 with some of the niggers — Loonej Hotchkiss and 
 some others." 
 
 " That was only 'cause they were so trifling and 
 let their pigs into his garden." 
 
 " Oh, that was the it of it, was it 1 " said Mitchell, 
 with the air of one convinced. " Well, he's a 
 mighty nice man, to be snre, Mr. Cobbs is, and a 
 right good rider. Kinder funny he likes that mnle 
 better than a horse, and it lame, too ! " 
 
 " It can tire ont any horse on the plantation, for 
 all it's hip-short," said Ally, " and it's terrible fast, 
 too." 
 
 " Slmcks ! He's fast, yon say ! Eeckon you all 
 don't let him stay in the bottom. Keep him up in 
 the stable ? Cobbs would hate terribly to have any- 
 thing happen to him, I judge." 
 
 " "Well, I should say so," Ally agreed, warmly. 
 " Cobbs was out all night, hunting him once, when 
 he broke loose from the barn and ran off." 
 
 " You go, too ? " said Mitchell, with flattering 
 interest. He seemed to have become talkative. 
 
 " He didn't know anything about it till the next 
 day. He just naturally jumped over the fence and 
 lit out—" 
 
 "IS'ot that big picket-fence! Well, I couldn't 
 believe that imless it ben seen." 
 
NORTH AND SOUTH. I53 
 
 " Cobbs saw it liimseK ; he was there." 
 
 " Anybody else ? " 
 
 Ally resented the implication of the question. 
 He answered hotly : " Cobbs's word is as good's a 
 dozen ! He saw it." 
 
 " Oh, I ain't aiming to impngn Mr. Cobbs's 
 word," Mitchell hastened to say. "I was just 
 asking, that's all. Does the mule do such tricks 
 much ?" He was now addressing Cecil. 
 
 " I don't know," Cecil answered. " I never 
 heard of any of them, before. He must have done 
 his high jumping before I came." 
 
 " It was the night before you came," said Ally. 
 Then he laughed. " All sorts of things happened 
 that night — ku-kluxes, and ever}i;hing." 
 
 " To be sure," said Mitchell ; " but I cayn't get 
 over that big jump. That fence must be rising of 
 six feet. He's a mighty nimble mule." 
 
 "He ain't so nimble as Mr. Henderson, Aunt 
 Valley's mule," said Ally. " He's Mr. Henderson's 
 brother." 
 
 " Kinder queer name for a mule — * Mr. Hender- 
 son.' " 
 
 "They call him that 'cause he's so sharp — 
 * smart's a man,' papa said ; and so he named him 
 Mr. Henderson ; his name was Rube Henderson, to 
 
154: WE ALL. 
 
 start with. "WTiy, he's the schemiest fellow. Every 
 place he ever goes to and stops he knows, and, you 
 take him by that place again, he'll stop." 
 
 " Bad beast to ride if you're doing a meanness," 
 said Mitchell. 
 
 Ally laughed, but Cecil was struck by a new idea 
 that made him grave and silent, and rather relieved 
 when Mitchell was called away to shoe somebody's 
 horse. Then his new idea was given to Ally. 
 " Ally, that fellow was just pumping us." 
 " Why would he want to pump us ? " 
 " I don't know^, but I am sure he was." 
 Such an answer from illogical Sally would have 
 met a prompt demand for a reason ; but Cecil, who 
 lived ISTorth, and had crossed the ocean, and knew 
 how to do examples in interest in arithmetic, w^as 
 quite a different person. 
 
 " Come to think of it, he was kinder insist- 
 ing with those questions of his," said Ally, mu- 
 singly. 
 
 " Could he suspect Cobbs, by chance ? " 
 Ally's stolid blue eyes kindled ; his light eye- 
 brows met ; he exploded at once. " Susj^ect Cobbs ! 
 Well, he must be a fool ! " 
 
 " Oh,I don't say he does, but he might. Detect- 
 ives " added Cis, out of the wisdom derived from 
 
NORTH AND SOUTH. 155 
 
 Gaboriau's novels — "detectives always suspect the 
 least likely persons." 
 
 " What do they do that for ? " 
 
 " Because nobody else does, don't you know ? 
 Then they have all the glory." 
 
 "Butif they didn't do it?" 
 
 "That doesn't matter; they suspect every one 
 else, too." 
 
 " Well, I don't think much of detectives, if they 
 are that kind of fellows," said Ally. " Cobbs, in- 
 deed ! Why, if he had any sense, he'd know Cobbs 
 wouldn't have done it. I wish Sally hadn't given 
 him that handkerchief." 
 
 Cecil privately w^ondered if the detective might 
 not have made a shrewd guess. " Suspect the least 
 likely man," he quoted to himself. To be sure, there 
 was no visible motive, except spite against the ne- 
 groes with whom he had quarreled, for Cobbs act- 
 ing so, but there might be other motives under- 
 ground. 
 
 Ally continued the subject : " I should think a 
 detective, a fellow in the business of finding out 
 folks, w^ould know Cobbs was not the right kind of 
 a man to do such a meanness. When Cobbs is mad 
 with anybody, he up and tells him and has it out 
 with him point blank. Him romancing round 
 
156 WE ALL. 
 
 darkey houses at niglit, and firing guns at tliem — 
 that detective is a plumb idiot ! " 
 
 Cecil laughed ; he felt no inchnation to defend 
 Mitchell. 
 
 " I'll tell Cobbs, the next time I see him, that's 
 what I will," vowed Ally. 
 
 " Better not." 
 
 "Wliynot?" 
 
 Cecil said, evasively, that it might prejudice 
 Cobbs against Mitchell. Perhaps he wouldn't help 
 him so heartily. 
 
 It was a lame argument that Ally interrupted, 
 hotly. " That's all you know about Cobbs, then. 
 You're not much better than Mitchell. Do you 
 reckon Cobbs would stop helping papa out of spite 
 of Mitchell ? If Mitchell was his worst enemy, and 
 papa had left Mitchell in his charge, Cobbs would 
 help him. That's the kind of fellow Cobbs is." 
 
 Cecil recoiled from this fire ; he hated quarrels 
 and disputes ; they were vulgar, he thought, from 
 his height of personal dignity. To get in such a 
 way over a servant like Cobbs, too ! " The hot- 
 headed cub," he said, contemptuously — not out loud, 
 but to Cecil Eaimund — " fancy me wanting to fight 
 somebody who had insulted Martin, or the coachman, 
 or one of the grooms ! " He shrugged his shoulders. 
 
NORTH AND SOUTH, 157 
 
 " You seem very fond of Cobbs," said lie, coldly. 
 
 Instantly he wished that he had not spoken. 
 Ally's round, freckled face grew red to the eyes ; his 
 features quivered ; but it was not the anger in them 
 that struck Cis like a blow — it was the look of 
 dumb, bewildered mortification and pain. 
 
 "W-what do you think about Cobbs, then?" 
 Ally began, then all at once turned his back on Cecil. 
 '' You went hunting with him, too," came in a kind 
 of a sob from the averted figure. Ally was choking 
 and clinching his fists. " And he killed an otter, 
 and was drying its skin for you. He said you were 
 a pretty nice boy — " 
 
 Cecil laughed. He meant no harm by the 
 laugh; only Cobbs's compliment sounded so lim- 
 ited, and in Ally's doleful voice so funny ; and the 
 very fact that the words before had touched him 
 made the laugh come more easily. Yet it was in 
 his heart to clap Ally on the shoulder and say : 
 ^'Kever mind. Ally, I didn't mean anything. I 
 think Cobbs is a mighty nice man, as you call it." 
 Indeed, his hand was lifted, and "I^ever " shaped it- 
 self on his lips ; but it was not spoken, for, quick as 
 thought, Ally wheeled and struck Cecil a stinging 
 blow in the face. 
 
 Cecil lifted his fists. 
 
158 WE ALL. 
 
 Ally's arms dropped at his sides. He made no 
 effort to strike another blow. His face flushed a 
 darker, more painful red. 
 
 " I had no right to do that," he said, in a suffo- 
 cated kind of voice, " not when yon w^ere visiting me. 
 You can strike me, if you like ; I won't hit back." 
 
 " I don't want to strike you," said Cecil, scorn- 
 fully. " I don't want to ever have anything more 
 to do with you." He turned on his heel and was 
 walking away. 
 
 " What are you going to do ? " said Ally. 
 
 " I am going to get a horse and ride to the sta- 
 tion," said Cecil. 
 
 " ISTo, don't. What good is that going to do ? " 
 Ally called, half sullenly still. " I begged your 
 pardon ; what more can any gentleman do ? " cried 
 the Southern lad. "It will make my father feel 
 awful bad — and yours, too. You hadn't oiigJit to 
 go, Cis ! " 
 
 The last shot went home. Through all Cecil's 
 tumult of shock, disgust, indignant fury, a vision of 
 his father's look pierced ; again he heard the dear 
 familiar voice saying : " Cis, you are a gentleman." 
 It would hurt dad. Dad wouldn't scold him, but 
 he would be awfully cut up, which was worse. 
 
 Cecil turned. 
 
"Fo/^ can strik-e ma if yoa like; 1 n'on't hit back.''' 
 
NORTH AND SOUTH. 159 
 
 Seizing tins sign of wavering, Ally continued 
 eagerly : " Of course, you're mad. That's all right. 
 And, if you want to fight me, I'll go off down in the 
 bottom with you and fight it out. And then, if 
 we're banged up much," said Ally, in his practical 
 fashion, elaborating the idea which, I suspect, had a 
 secret charm for him, " we can go off on the hunt, 
 and everybody'll lay it to that, and we won't need to 
 say a word ; most likely, we'll get banged up some 
 more, anyhow, running into branches and thorn- 
 trees — " 
 
 " I don't want to fight you," Cecil struck in, 
 mth his loftiest dignity. " I take boys of my own 
 size when I want to fight. Do you suppose I can't 
 thrash you ? " 
 
 Ally looked at him critically. " You needn't 
 stop for that," said he. " I ain't so tall, but I'm 
 mighty stout, and I got a better wind than you. / 
 call it 'bout even. But, if you won't fight, I'll let 
 you hit me hard's you can, spang in my face. Only 
 just once, 'cause I only hit you once. Say, will you 
 stay then ? " 
 
 " That's nonsense," said Cecil ; " if I touched you 
 at all, I'd give you a good thrashing. But your 
 father saved my father's life, and I'm not going to 
 pound you while I'm visiting him." 
 
160 WE ALL. 
 
 Ally's stolid face worked. " Well, I did say I 
 was sorry." 
 
 " That's quite enough," said Cecil, shortly. 
 " Don't let's say anything more about it. Isn't it 
 about time for our horses to come ? " 
 
 " There's Yance bringing them now," said Ally, 
 in a very subdued tone. 
 
 Yance's grin, in fact, was bobbing up and down 
 on Ally's own black pony, while he led the horse 
 that Cecil commonly rode. 
 
 When the lads were about to mount. Ally said, 
 " You'd better ride 'Nig " (the black) ; " he's a heap 
 the best jumper." 
 
 Cecil declined briefly. He preferred Easmus. 
 
 " Aren't you going to leave some word with 
 your sister ? " said he, as they settled themselves in 
 the saddles and gathered up the reins. 
 
 ^' Inconsiderate cub ! " he thought. He liked to 
 call Ally a cub in his thoughts; it made him feel 
 the more superior ; cub was an expression that no- 
 body could apply to polite, clever, perfectly dressed 
 Cecil. 
 
 " I plumb forgot," muttered Ally. — " Say, Yance, 
 tell Miss Sally we won't be back to dinner." 
 
 The boys galloped away, while Yance solilo- 
 quized : " Laws, ain't it fine t' be takin' you' pleasure 
 
NORTH AND SOUTH. 161 
 
 dat away an' not habin' go back an' clin'n ? I does 
 hate dat cliu'n wussern de debbil ! " 
 
 But I am sure no one that saw tlie two riders' 
 faces wonld have guessed that thej were going on 
 an excursion of pleasure. 
 
CHAPTEK X. 
 
 THE HOG-HUNT. 
 
 The boys rode into the forest at a gentle pace. 
 In December there come days to Arkansas when 
 the sun seems trying to cheat the earth into the 
 delusion that winter is a sham, and spring already 
 come. Then the undiscourageable grass of the bot- 
 tom-lands puts forth its tiny shoots and greens all 
 the plain. The willow-twigs have a pink haze, as 
 of rising sap and spring-time ; and the clumps of 
 mistletoe scattered through leafless tree-tops, the 
 brilliant gloss of holly-leaves here and there, and 
 the still beautiful verdure of the live-oaks, relieve 
 the dreariness of that somber woodland of cypress 
 and gum. 
 
 Such a day shed its gracious warmth everywhere 
 as Cecil and Ally rode along. 
 
 If there were no flowers, there were gorgeous 
 dogwood-leaves still clinging to slender saplings, 
 and blood-red swamp-hackberries and dogwood-ber- 
 ries speckling their network of purple twigs. 
 
THE HOG-HUNT. 1^3 
 
 Little did either of tlie boys notice the beauty 
 about them. 
 
 Hot and angry, or coldly angry, they trotted 
 over the soft ground where the cypress-needles 
 muffled their horses' footfalls. 
 
 Ally, in spite of his bluster, was more hurt than 
 angry. Cecil felt that he came off best in the en- 
 counter ; yet he was conscious of an uncomfortable 
 suspicion that he was more to blame than the vio- 
 lent Ally. 
 
 After all, those favorite knights of his never 
 deserted their faithful retainers. Cobbs had been 
 Colonel Seyton's orderly in the war. It was un- 
 just to compare Cobbs to that fat, selfish Martin, 
 the butler, who took commissions from the butcher 
 and grocer, and cheated his master in half a dozen 
 ways. The Kaimund servants served for money. 
 " If they didn't get high wages they wouldn't stand 
 mamma's nonsense," thought Cecil, disrespectfully. 
 He knew that his father had men in his employ- 
 ment who served, as Cobbs did, for love. May be 
 Ally was not so wrong about Cobbs. I am not 
 saying that the otter-skin had not some weight 
 with Cis. 
 
 But, of course, he was not going to make any 
 
 advances to Ally. Ally on his part did not know 
 11 
 
164 WE ALL. 
 
 what to say. Still, lie was sure that it was his duty 
 as host to do something in reparation for his fit of 
 passion. 
 
 " May be you'd like to know the best way to 
 kill a pig," said he, holding out a verbal flag of 
 truce. 
 
 " I brought my revolver," answered Cecil, not 
 relaxing his dignity. 
 
 " "Well, you can shoot 'em with revolvers," Ally 
 continued, although he flushed, " but they generally 
 take guns. They shoot from horseback. It's dan- 
 gerous to shoot on foot ; once, C a man, was 
 
 shooting hogs, and his gun was empty, and he'd 
 shot a whaling big fellow, and Henri — our dog 
 Henri, you know — jumped on him, and there was 
 a terrible wrestle — rolling over and over, every 
 
 thing all bloody. C the man, jumped off his 
 
 horse. The other man — Mr. Crane, the clerk at 
 the store, that was — says : ' Don't you jump off ; 
 the critter's dangerous ! ' ' Tell you that's Ally's 
 dog,' says he, and jumped, and went at the hog 
 with his knife, and killed him, too ! But he got a 
 rip in the arm that laid him up for a month, and 
 Henri was nearly 'bout killed." 
 
 " Who was the man ? " said Cecil. 
 
 " Cobbs," said Ally. 
 
THE HOG-HUNT. I65 
 
 A dead silence. Cecil made no comment on 
 Cobbs's bravery. 
 
 Tbej rode as far as the bayou, then turned into 
 the forest. 
 
 Now and then Ally would make some remark 
 about the hunt ; occasionally Cecil would ask a 
 question ; the greatest civility was maintained, and 
 nothing could be more irksome than the situation. 
 
 With a deep sigh of relief Ally heard the far- 
 off baying of the hounds and the echoing horns. 
 They were in the wake of the chase. 
 
 Instantly everything else was forgotten. 
 
 " They're coming this way," cried Ally, excited- 
 ly, " Hi ! look out I Here they are ! " 
 
 With a rush and a clamor the hounds burst 
 through the trees. After them came the horse- 
 men. The dogs bayed ! The men shouted ! The 
 horns rang ! The horses' eyeballs glowed, their 
 nostrils dilated ; they were wild as their riders. 
 
 So the chase swept by ; and the boys galloped 
 in the rear. 
 
 "Give your horse his head!" Ally shouted; 
 " he knows the way better than you do. Come on." 
 
 A forest fire had cleared a wide space before 
 them, in which fallen trees, charred logs, and 
 pronged roots made an uncanny-looking litter. 
 
166 WE ALL. 
 
 Yet over this dangerous ground dogs and horse- 
 men galloped at full speed, leaping, dodging, stum- 
 bling, but never halting. 
 
 The hounds escaped out of view, but the horse- 
 men rushed on furiously, horses as eager as men. 
 
 Something contagious in this frenzy of sound 
 and motion fired the boys' blood. They dashed 
 after the hunters. Beyond the burned clearing 
 was the tall cane, high, high above a rider's head. 
 
 The hounds had plunged in after the pigs. 
 
 The boys in the rear heard a great medley of 
 yells, barks, and gunshots. 
 
 "They've rallied!" Ally yelled. "Hurrah! 
 Come on — quick, Cis ! " 
 
 Where was the coldness between them ? Quite 
 swept away by the ardor of the chase. 
 
 " Lower down the logs are smaller," said Ally, 
 pointing. There was a huge log fallen across the 
 way. A few of the hunters had cleared it ; most of 
 them had ridden to the right to obtain an easier 
 jump. 
 
 " It's low enough for me, here," said Cecil, put- 
 ting his horse at the log. 
 
 " Me, too," said Ally, carelessly. Nig went over 
 the log like a bird, but the heels of Cecil's horse 
 clattered. Eecklessly they rode on. The cane was 
 
THE HOG-HUNT. 167 
 
 above tliem, arched on eitlier side. The riders had 
 beaten a path through. They raced over the 
 trampled waves. Ahead of them, the hunters sat 
 on their horses, quieting them. The air was dense 
 witli smoke. 
 
 Cis knew what a rally was. He had heard 
 Cobbs describe how the hunted hogs will rmi for 
 their lives at first, but, overtaken, make a desperate 
 stand, fighting the dogs, charging on the horses, and 
 never flee again, but fight until the last hog lies 
 dead. 
 
 Half the hogs lay on the trampled ground ; the 
 others were tossing the dogs from them on their 
 cimeter-like tusks. The dogs, bleeding, but full of 
 fight, would dash back into the fray again and cou- 
 rageously hang on to the hogs' ears. 
 
 Cis saw Henri's white tuft dancing in the thick 
 of the melee while he snapped and bit, and, retreat- 
 ing nimbly, worrying the hogs more than any dog 
 in the pack. 
 
 One huge boar, frightfully wounded, charged on 
 the guns. He came straight toward the two boys. 
 His horrible black head was spiked with two gleam- 
 ing white tusks, his eyes were coals of fire. Cecil 
 felt a single furious bound of his heart as he aimed 
 his revolver. Think of the revolver playing him 
 
168 "^E ALL. 
 
 false and missing fire ! It was too much for Kas- 
 mus; he lost all confidence in his rider, snorted, 
 swerved, and wheeled sharply round. Cecil was 
 off his guard, intent on the boar ; he was not think- 
 ing of his seat ; in another second, he found himself 
 frantically wrenching and kicking at a trumpet-vine 
 that gripped his leg in a vise. And close — closer, 
 that horror of savage death ! 
 
 On his knees in the tangle he felt blindly for his 
 knife. He never could get it out and open it in 
 time. O poor dad ! 
 
 He heard the clash of the creature's teeth; he 
 felt, rather than saw, the hot, foul jaws, the blood, 
 the wicked eyes — something spattered on his cheek, 
 turning him deadly sick and faint ! 
 
 Then — it was Henri's bark ! Henri was hang- 
 ing on the boar's ear. " Hold him, brave dog ! — 
 Ally, take care ; don't shoot the dog ! " 
 
 The respite had given Cis his nerve again; in 
 spite of the vine-trap, by flinging himself full 
 length, he recovered his revolver. But, before he 
 could aim, two reports rang out at once. The boar 
 tumbled over, shot so truly that he never quivered. 
 They found two bullets in his brain that night. 
 
 " I shot the minute I could get a clear aim, 
 Cis ! " cried Ally, jumping off his horse to run up 
 
THE HOG-HUNT. 1^9 
 
 to Ms cousin. "You see jou were spang in tlie 
 road ! " 
 
 " Look a-liere, boys," said another voice, a voice 
 that thej both knew, as Cobbs lowered liis empty 
 gun, " this ain't playin' fair. — Ally, I didn't reckon 
 you'd do me such a meanness as to be comin' here 
 when you' pa ben gone. — Say, go ahead with your 
 firing over yonder, an' kill them three that's left ! " 
 
 Cobbs's attention was only distracted a moment. 
 The three remaining hogs were shot. ISTothing was 
 left to do, now, except to haul the dead beasts to the 
 camp ; which was promptly done by attaching a 
 chain to each pig, and so pulling it through the 
 brake to the place where the wagon waited. 
 
 The dogs were none of them seriously hurt, so 
 Cobbs was free to come back to the boys. 
 
 Cecil, with Ally's aid, had freed himself from the 
 vines and recaptured his horse. Cobbs found him 
 back in his saddle, none the worse for his fall. He 
 was an amusing spectacle, to be sure, with mud and 
 scratches, but Cobbs said that what wouldn't wash 
 off would heal up, and it was a world's wonder he 
 didn't get a rip or two before Ally could shoot; 
 reckoned he would, too, if Onery hadn't chipped 
 in. He never saw such boys ! Well, they got to go 
 home now, that was one sure thing. "Wliether he 
 
170 WE ALL. 
 
 would have sent them home (he always said that he 
 should) was not to be decided tlien, for just as he 
 began — " Now, Ally ye know I jest natchelly hate t' 
 make ye feel bad, but — " Yelp ! went the dogs, the 
 horns bellowed, and every man not busy with the 
 dead hogs, was off after the new game ! 
 
 Perhaps Cobbs felt that it was asking too much 
 of human nature to tell the boys to forego this 
 run. At any rate, all he said was, " Keep close to 
 me, boys ! " 
 
 Often, to this day, Cecil feels his pulse quicken- 
 ing as that wild rush enacts itself over again in his 
 brain. The weird Southern forest is all about him. 
 Pawpaw-saplings whip his face as his horse's chest 
 beats them down. Leafless vines swing out their 
 lassoes above his head. He is stung by the thorn- 
 tree branches, but what does he care ? What would 
 any boy, that, if he live, will be a man, care for 
 bruises and stings, when a brave horse is under him 
 and the prey ahead ? 
 
 Cecil didn't think of danger ; he thought of 
 nothing but to show Cobbs — Cobbs, whom he had 
 despised a few hours ago — that he could ride 
 straight. He was eager, hke a young soldier fight- 
 ing under his general's eye. Nevertheless, some- 
 how (can it be that Cobbs picked his way too 
 
THE HOG-HUNT. 171 
 
 carefully ?), tliey came up at the end of tlie firing — 
 barely in time to see tlie last pig drop. 
 
 " Thar, now, boys," Cobbs remarked, " ye done 
 seen a sight er fun, an' ye bes' be gittin' home. I'll 
 send somebody to put ye on the wagon-track to the 
 road, an' if ye go now ye'll be back afore sundaown. 
 So come 'long by to the camp an' git a bite ; an' 
 then. Ally, ye p'intedly must be startin'." 
 
 Ally made no objection. He was unusually seri- 
 ous, and more stolid than ever, now the excitement 
 was over. Back they went, therefore, to the camp. 
 
 The title seemed to Cecil (who stared around 
 vainly for tents) a large name for nothing more 
 than a wagon, wdth a white top, and a fire built 
 against a log. 
 
 Cobbs himself acted as cook. He very soon had 
 a panful of pork tenderloin hissing on the coals, 
 and some sweet-potatoes buried in the ashes. Then 
 he deftly mixed what he was pleased to term " some 
 biscuits," with flour, butter, baking-powder, and 
 water, enumerating all the ingredients for Cecil's 
 benefit. He turned the dough into another frying- 
 pan, raked out more coals on which he placed it, 
 and covered it with a panful of coals. 
 
 " Jest's good oven as ye want," Cobbs said, with 
 twinkling eyes. 
 
172 WE ALL. 
 
 " You can cook anything, can't you, Cobbs ? " 
 said Ally, admiringly. 
 
 " Wa'al, I kin make a stagger at rough cookin', 
 an' I do sometimes- try egg custards," said Cobbs, 
 modestly; "onyliow, my ole maw learned me to 
 cook clean, an' I used to cook in tlie army. E'ow, 
 what do you boys crave for sop ? We got canned 
 peaches, an' prunes, an' lasses ; the prunes is fust 
 class ; an' we got cheese an' good butter ; but ye'll 
 have to do without milk in you' coffee." 
 
 " I'm hungry enough to eat anything," said Cecil, 
 who then took the opportunity to make his ac- 
 knowledgments to Cobbs for his (Cobbs's) timely 
 dispatch of the boar. 
 
 " Oh, nev' you mind baout that ar," Cobbs dep- 
 recated, sawing the air with his hand as if to cut 
 off Cecil's thanks ; " no tellin' if 'twar my shot or 
 Ally's done it. Query's the one made the best out 
 at holpin' ye, I say. Kinder shame to name that 
 smart dog Onery, if His French lingo fur Henry. 
 "Well, it are all afore ye ; fall tew, boys ! " 
 
 Even Cecil was satisfied by Cobbs's military 
 cleanliness. He enjoyed the rude meal, seasoned 
 with backwoods jokes and hunting tales. Cobbs 
 had a good deal to say of a certain brother-in-law 
 of his, who had been a mighty hunter — a wag also, 
 
THE HOG-HUNT. 173 
 
 that " cud 'most make ye die laffin' way he'd cyarry 
 on ; looked like, the more dangerouser things was, 
 the more he'd be jokin' and laffin'." One story of 
 his prowess recalled another, and his feats went 
 round the board. The last story-teller sighed in a 
 dolorous way : " Dear, dear, dear, ain't it tew bad ! 
 He ben a mighty nice man." Everybody assented. 
 ]S"ow, there had been nothing in the story of a 
 dismal cast ; in fact, it was a joke. Cecil couldn't 
 understand this commiseration. 
 
 " Is he dead ? " he ventured to ask. 
 
 " Naw, sir," answered the story-teller, solemnly, 
 with a melancholy widening of the mouth not to be 
 called a smile ; " he are gone to Texas." 
 
 It was as if he had said that he had gone to 
 prison. The other men looked sympathetically at 
 Cobbs. Yet Cis had heard these very men praise 
 Texas. 
 
 One old hunter took up the conversation : " I 
 jest did hate it turrible when I heerd he ben gone. 
 I never cud git satisfied baout that tiling. Did look 
 tew mean. His wife ben a mighty nice lady, Cobbs. 
 Turrible hard on her, I expect." 
 
 " I war more sorrier fur maw than fur sis," 
 Cobbs said ; " she taken it hard. Says I : ' Maw, if 
 ye feel to go with sis, I ain't a word to say ; but ye 
 
174 WE ALL. 
 
 know ye got a room, an' a home, an' the bossin' of 
 
 things always, a-waitin' fur ye at Arundel, long's I 
 
 live.' Did mortify me mightily to have her go; 
 
 but she sayd sis got a heap to enjure, an' she felt 
 
 she'd orter holp. So she went. Well, no use mak- 
 
 in' a song er it. — Time fur you boys to be fixin' to 
 
 go; so 
 
 'Fill up my cup an' fill up my can, 
 Saddle my horses an' call off my men,' 
 
 like the cunnel sings. Here ye be, boys ! All 
 ready ! Tell the folks we'll be 'long to-morrow." 
 
 Eather ruefully the boys mounted their horses. 
 One of the hunters rode with them as far as the 
 wagon-trail ; thence, the way was plain. It was 
 plain, but it was not tempting; the boys had had 
 just enough hunting to be distracted by a feverish 
 hunger for more. 
 
 Ally's loyalty to Cobbs kept his grumbling be- 
 hind his lips ; but, at every blast of the horn in the 
 distance, a deep, irrepressible sigh broke from him. 
 
 "I wish they'd quit blowing that confounded 
 thing ! " he cried at last ; " I hate the sound of it 
 when we're not after it." 
 
 Cecil simply remarked that the sound grew 
 nearer. 
 
 Ally halted. Yes, the sound certainly did grow 
 
THE HOG-HUNT, 1^5 
 
 louder and clearer, penetrated now by the shrill yelps 
 of the hounds. The Southern boy's eyes kindled ; 
 a glow crept into his cheek. 
 
 " I just Icnow they're only a bit to the right, over 
 yonder," he muttered. " Cis, say, let's see just this 
 one ! " 
 
 " Yery well," said Cis, calmly. Really, however, 
 his pulses were drumming as hard as Ally's. 
 
 With the word, away dashed the boys across 
 country on a gallop. They were only guided by the 
 sound, which in the beginning seemed to grow 
 clearer, but presently was duller, as though the 
 chase had doubled on its former lines. Still, on 
 they galloped. 
 
 Ally had looked back once at Cecil, and his 
 shrewd eye, used to horses from his babyhood, 
 showed him that his cousin's animal was flagging. 
 
 " Lift him easy over the logs, Cis," he advised. 
 
 " Oh, he's fresh enough," said Cecil, putting the 
 poor beast at a larger log to prove his words. 
 
 The next instant horse and rider were sprawling 
 in the wreck of a thorn-tree on the other side of the 
 log. Cecil crawled out immediately, although his face 
 was like a railroad map in red ink, w4th scratches ; 
 but the horse lay on his back, helplessly kicking. 
 
 Ally's face was solemn as he approached. lie 
 
176 WE ALL. 
 
 shouted to Cis to stand off. Instead, Cis ran to 
 help him, with the natural result of narrowly escap- 
 ing having his brains knocked out by a chance kick, 
 in the brute's struggles before he managed to stand 
 again. When he did stand it was in a very shaky, 
 uncertain fashion. 
 
 " I'm afraid he's lame," said Cecil. 
 
 " I Tcnow he is," answered Ally, with the calm- 
 ness of despair. 
 
 An apology for the recklessness that had 
 brought this mischance upon them trembled on 
 Cecil's tongue; but the pride that so seldom 
 checks our hasty anger, or injustice, stopped his 
 first impulse of repentance ; he was silent. 
 
 Ally it was who said suddenly, " Well, there 
 ain't nothing for it now but to find the road and 
 go home the best we can." 
 
 " I suppose so," said Cecil. 
 
 Yery slowly and sorrowfully did they turn to 
 retrace their steps. To their dismay, they dis- 
 covered that there was no trail for them to turn 
 upon. The hard ground carpeted with cypress- 
 needles showed no smallest print of a horse's hoof. 
 The cypress and gum trunks were thick on either 
 side. Had they been in the canebrake, their path 
 would have been like a lane ; but a forest-fire had 
 
THE HOG-HUNT. 177 
 
 swept away all the underbrusli. Before tliey had 
 been walking five minntes Ally reined in his horse. 
 
 " It's no use, Cis," said he ; " the track is plumb 
 gone. I haven't the least notion on earth which 
 way that wagon-road is." 
 
 "Could we strike across the other way," Cecil 
 asked, " after the hunters ? " 
 
 "Listen!" said Ally. 
 
 They heard the notes of the horn, but fainter. 
 Fainter still they came again. The yelps of the 
 dogs were muffled. 
 
 " They are in the cane," said Ally. 
 
 " But your horse is fresh ; you ride on and get 
 them. I'll stay here." 
 
 Ally shook his head. " And how am I to find 
 you again if I do find them?" was his impatient 
 answer. "Ko, we got to stick it out together. 
 Come on. Cobbs won't know we haven't gone 
 home, and Sally will reckon we are going to stay 
 all night \vith Cobbs. There isn't anybody to help 
 us ; we got to help ourselves." 
 
 "But, surely," Cecil suggested, "there are cab- 
 ins where we can stop." 
 
 " Yes, if we go the right way," said Ally. " If 
 we take a wrong turn, we might travel all night 
 and not hit one." 
 
178 WE ALL. 
 
 Cecil said no more. Ally proposed that lie 
 ride the sound horse, but Cecil, promptly, with 
 cold politeness, declined the offer. 
 
 "Then let's take turns," Ally said. "It's all 
 stuff, you understand — me doing all the riding ! 
 You'll get killed up before you know it, and then 
 where'll we be ? " 
 
 "Walking isn't going to kill me." 
 
 " Oh, killed up ain't Mlled^^ Ally explained the 
 Arkansas idiom very gruffly ; "at least 'tain't that 
 way ; used up, if you like it better." 
 
 Then he offered the horse again, and Cecil kept 
 the peace by mounting. Ally led the poor lame 
 Rasmus. 
 
 So they crawled on for perhaps half an hour. 
 Ally's sole speech was : " Cobbs knows every tree 
 in the bottom ; he could find the way back to the 
 road in the dark. Oh, laws ! " 
 
 Cecil answered not a word. Over in the west, 
 behind the blunted tops of the cypresses, the sun 
 was a golden ball. A chill dampness exhaled from 
 the black pools among the lowlands which they had 
 approached. 
 
 It was bad enough now, but when night came 
 on what should they do ? 
 
 Afar off the wind rose in the forest in a long. 
 
THE HOG-HUNT. 179 
 
 sobbing roar — a Bound like nothing else. The 
 golden ball sank low, lower ; only a blood-red sky 
 remained. 
 
 Cecil turned to Ally. He tried to read the 
 other's pale and frowning face. 
 
 "Ally," said he, "it looks different with all 
 this water among the trees ; don't you know at 
 all where we are ? " 
 
 " If we are where I reckon we are," answered 
 Ally, " we couldn't be in a worse place." 
 
 This was not a reassuring speech. Cecil's heart 
 sank ; but his spirits rose again at Ally's next words, 
 uttered as he peered sharply about him, in the dusk : 
 " There ought to be some signs of the path to the 
 store. Yes, I see it." 
 
 " A store ! " Cecil exclaimed, joyfully ; " are we 
 near a store?" 
 
 " Only a deserted store, and plumb full of 
 ha'nts." 
 
 "Ants?" 
 
 "Well, ghosts then. We call 'em ha'nts be- 
 cause they haunt you." 
 
 " Oh, I don't mind ghosts ; they're not half as 
 bad as bugs." 
 
 " Don't you believe in ghosts ? " 
 
 "ISo; do you?" 
 12 
 
180 WE ALL. 
 
 Ally wore his stolid expression and answered 
 like a Scotcliman — that is, he did not really answer 
 at all. " Well, papa and mamma don't neither, but 
 Cobbs does. His brother-in-law had to move to 
 Texas on account of meeting up with a ghost." 
 
 " Don't you think we would better go on to this 
 store ? " said Cecil, loath to tackle the subject of 
 Cobbs on any side, in spite of his curiosity as to how 
 a ghost could act as an emigration agent. " How 
 far are we from home ? " 
 
 " 'Most eight miles," answered Ally, despond- 
 ently ; " three miles off the road if we cut through 
 the swamp by the old cross-road. Like's not we 
 should get mixed up, too." 
 
 " Can you find the way ? Is the road plain ? " 
 
 " There isn't any road now, and the trees have 
 grown up so you can't hardly find where it was. It 
 was a road before the war." 
 
 " Then I should say we would better go to the 
 store and stay all night. We can build a fire, and 
 start early in the morning." 
 
 Alan looked about him rather wistfully. " Say, 
 why couldn't we camp farther on, and build a fire 
 against a log ? " 
 
 " But the store isn't far from here." 
 
 " May be half a mile." 
 
THE HOG-HUNT. 181 
 
 " That's not far — and then we'll be under 
 shelter." 
 
 Ally had dismonnted and was leading Easmus. 
 He stood still, kicking the loose clods of earth with 
 his foot. 
 
 " Surely you don't mind the ghosts ? " said Cis. 
 
 Instead of the flat denial that he expected, his 
 cousin answered very seriously : " Well, there's 
 something queer about the place. But I'll tell you, 
 and then, if you say go, all right. I ain't any more 
 afraid than anybody else." 
 
 ^' We might be walking along that way while 
 you tell it," suggested Cecil. 
 
 " Is'o," said Ally, bluntly ; " I don't guess you'll 
 crave that w\ay after I've told you. I can just as 
 well tell it here." 
 
 Secretly, Cecil determined that he would go to 
 the store, if only to show Ally that he was not so 
 easily scared ; but he sat down wliile Ally turned 
 the horses. Then, seating himseK beside Cecil, 
 resting his elbows on his knees and his chin on his 
 hands, Alan told the story of the haunted store. It 
 was a cross-roads store during war times, and some 
 guerrillas had been captured and shot in front of it. 
 Their ghosts, it was, that made the spot terrible. 
 
 " They were mighty bad men and did a heap of 
 
182 WE ALL. 
 
 murdering" — thus Ally explained the ease — "so 
 now tliej just naturally can't rest in their graves, 
 'cause they haven't got any. They just let them lie 
 where they were shot. Their bones are somewhere 
 round here, Cobbs says, what the pigs didn't get; 
 and he says that's how come they are ghosts — hav- 
 ing no proper place to stay in." 
 
 Cecil jumped up laughing. " Well, let us go see 
 them — if they want to show themselves." 
 
 " Sit down," said Ally ; " I'm not through yet." 
 
 " Excuse me ; I thought you had finished." 
 Cecil seated himself with his usual politeness. 
 
 " It isn't all talk about the ghosts," Ally con- 
 tinued. " Folks have seen these ghosts." 
 
 " I fancy they were darkeys." 
 
 " The darkeys did see them," said Ally, simply, 
 not detecting the covert reflection on his supersti- 
 tion, " and they 'most killed Uncle Joe Collins. He 
 didn't run off like the others when they heard 
 noises and saw a light in the store. He was right 
 brave and stole up to the house to peek in — and 
 that was all he knew ; he heard a clap of thunder 
 and saw lightning, and the next thing he knew he 
 was laying on the ground and the stars were shin- 
 ing, and he jumped up and ran home, and when he 
 got home he 'most died." 
 
THE HOG-HUNT. 183 
 
 " Is that all ? " said the young skeptic from the 
 North, who showed no signs of being impressed. 
 
 "JSTo, it isn't all," said Ally. "There was a 
 heap of talk about it, and Cobbs's brother-in-law — he 
 was deputy-sheriff then, and he was brave as brave, 
 and he 'lowed there might be moonshiners there ; so 
 he and two other men went to see, and they went at 
 night ; and when they got there it was moonlight 
 and the stars were shining, but there came a power- 
 ful loud clap of thunder ; and then they saw a light 
 in the store, that would shine and then go out. And 
 they heard sounds like a hammer or somebody 
 knocking. So the other two men were scared and 
 wanted to go home, but Cobbs's brother-in-law just 
 laughed at them and ran ahead into the house. 
 Then the light went out." Ally paused, not to be 
 dramatic, but to fish in his pockets for a clumsy 
 knife. " That belonged to him," said he, lowering 
 his voice. " He gave it to me, afterward." The 
 boy opened the single remaining blade, which was 
 nicked. " It was a splendid knife," said Ally, with 
 respect. 
 
 " "What became of Mr. — the man you were tell- 
 ing about ? " 
 
 " Mr. Peters ? That was his name. The men 
 outside said they heard an awful clap of thunder, 
 
184 WE ALL. 
 
 and saw a kinder blue liglit, and that was all ; for 
 they went flying off, nigh scared to death." 
 
 "But Mr. Peters— r' 
 
 " His wife gave him up for dead, and papa and 
 Cobbs and half a dozen more men went out the next 
 morning to find him ; and, if you please, they met 
 up with him 'most ways home, walking along, white 
 like a sheet of paper. They all began to try and 
 quiz him and find out what he'd seen. ' What I've 
 seen,' says he, ' I never will tell till the judgment- 
 day ! And no friend of mine will ever name it to 
 me.' And he never did tell any more than that — 
 not to his wife nor to Mr. Cobbs's mother or papa 
 or anybody. And he was a plumb changed man, 
 always sulling about — " 
 
 " Always what ? " 
 
 " Sulling — being sulky, you know. That's what 
 they call it. Haven't you ever seen an ox sull ? " 
 
 " Didn't you ever find out what he saw ? " 
 
 "Never. His own wife says she dassn't ask 
 him, it made him so miserable, and he said if she 
 talked to him 'bout it he would run away. He got 
 so worked up as that. And he never would go to 
 the store, and resigned being deputy-sheriff, and 
 always wore a red mitten on his right hand — " 
 
 "What did he do that for?" 
 
THE HOG-HUNT. 185 
 
 " Why, to hide it, of course. Oh, I didn't tell 
 you — that was one awful thing ! " — Ally's voice sank, 
 and he edged closer to Cecil ; " on his right hand 
 there was a mark, branded in like they brand horses 
 and cattle, and it was Dick Barnabas^ s mark, like 
 he used to Irand his horses! So folks said the 
 ghosts branded Peters for their man, 'cause Dick 
 Barnabas was their leader, you understand? So 
 they all got kind of shy of him. But his wife said 
 he was her man, and she was going to stick to him, 
 and she didn't care if all the ha'nts on earth were 
 after him, they shouldn't get him ; and she had 
 him join the church and go to Texas. That was 
 'most a year ago. Cobbs has had three letters from 
 his sister and one from his mother, and they say he's 
 getting over it, and folks think down there that he 
 just naturally burned his hand. So, now you know 
 all 'bout it." 
 
 " "What did your father think ? " said Ois, not 
 quite ready with an explanation. 
 
 " Oh, he reckoned it was moonshiners ; but he 
 and Cobbs, and some more men, rode over there the 
 next morning and searched all round, but they 
 couldn't find anything. And papa and Cobbs" — 
 Ally's face hghted out of its stolidity — " papa and 
 Cobbs and Henri stayed all night. I just remember 
 
186 WE ALL. 
 
 how Sally cried, she was so 'fraid something would 
 happen to papa, and I reckon I cried, too, thinking 
 how the ha'nts might kill him and Cobbs. But 
 thej wouldn't let me go ; just hollered on Uncle Joe 
 Peat, and he took me home." 
 
 " Why, did you follow them ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Ally, with a shame-faced look — 
 "rode after them on my pony, with my shotgun 
 and the sharpest kitchen carving-knife ; and rode 
 home bellering all the way, and lost the carving- 
 knife. I tell you Aunt Cindy was r'arin' on me 
 for that." 
 
 Cecil looked at Ally, abstractedly trying the 
 edge of his blade with his fingers ; after all, though 
 he was such a little savage. Ally was about as brave 
 as a boy could be. He thought of the stout-hearted, 
 superstitious little creature, riding with his shotgun 
 and his carving-knife ; he remembered the simple 
 admiration that both the children had shown him, 
 and that he had taken as quite his due, being so 
 used to flattery ; and, all at once, something deep 
 down in the lad's nature gave him some very cu- 
 rious twinges. 
 
 It was ridiculous for a little man of the world to 
 feel abashed and ashamed ; but Cis, recalling Ally's 
 look of disappointment and mortification in the 
 
THE HOG-HUNT. 187 
 
 morning, then recalling his conduct about the wild 
 hoff, had a taste of both these bitter sensations. 
 
 " I dare say he would have done as much for me, 
 this morning," thought Cis, " but he wouldn't, now." 
 
 " He felt a tingling desire to win Ally's admira- 
 tion back. Yery likely it was this as much as any- 
 thing else that made him rise and say, carelessly, 
 " Well, we can't find the store in the dark, so per- 
 haps we would better be going.'* 
 
 " You don't mean you want to stay there to- 
 night, now you know about it ? " cried Ally, his jaw 
 falling. 
 
 " Why not ? We don't believe in ghosts, and, if 
 there were moonshiners, they will have gone a long 
 time since. It is plainly impossible for us to get 
 home ; and I think it would be rather a lark, don't 
 you ? " 
 
 " JN'o," said Ally ; " I'd hate it terribly." 
 
 " Well, I want to see the house. I never saw a 
 haunted house. The fellows in Chicago will laugh 
 if I go so near a real, genuine old haunted house 
 and don't take a peek. I say. Ally, you show me 
 the way, and you can stay outside, and I'll go in." 
 
 Ally had resumed his dogged air. " All right," 
 he said, rather sulkily ; " if you want to go so bad, 
 I'll carry you. But you'll wish you hadn't." 
 
188 WE ALL. 
 
 Here was not a gracious acquiescence, but, for 
 once, Cecil did not feel disposed to criticise ; in an 
 obscure way lie was touched by Alan's refusal to 
 desert him, and at the same time his former desire 
 to impress the Southern boy was sharpened. He 
 felt that he hadn't shown to advantage in the hunt 
 — flung from the horse, and saved from the boar by 
 some one else's shooting it. When he had thanked 
 Ally in the morning. Ally had put the thanks away, 
 saying : ^' Laws ! I didn't do anything. You had got 
 your revolver again, and would have knocked him 
 over yourself if we hadn't shot. We really hadn't 
 ought to have shot and taken your pig from you." 
 How many times that day had Cecil wished that 
 they had held their hands a minute longer ! What 
 glory if he could have shot the hog himself ! He 
 wouldn't have minded the tumble then ; but, now — 
 he felt disgraced, and burned to retrieve himself by 
 some dazzling spurt of courage. He tried to awaken 
 Ally's enthusiasm, describing what fun it would be 
 to tell about their adventures next morning. 
 
 " Yes," Ally admitted, doubtfully, " if we ain't 
 killed up, some way, before morning." 
 
 But if Cecil's eloquence could not convince Ally, 
 who certainly was not an imaginative boy, at least it 
 fully conquered his own fancy. He could see him- 
 
THE HOG-HUNT. 189 
 
 self rehearsing his adventures to the boys at home. 
 Oh, no, he wouldn't talk of them as adventures, or 
 brag or be a cad about it ; he would just say in a care- 
 less way that he had once spent a night in a haunted 
 house ; then they would ask about it, and he would 
 repeat Ally's grewsome tales (he would ask Cobbs 
 about them ; no doubt there were plenty of dreadful 
 particulars) ; the fellows would get so excited, and he 
 would say, " So Ally and I stayed all night." Then 
 he would stop, and they would say, "Well, what then ? 
 What happened? What was he stopping for? 
 And he would answer, That was all. Nothing 
 happened. There was no more to tell. 
 
 An unexpected, cynical denoument of this sort 
 was quite to Cecil's taste. He smiled in advance 
 over the picture. 
 
 Meanwhile, Ally, with a dejected face, was teth- 
 ering the horses. 
 
 "Easier getting along without them," he mut- 
 tered. " Say, Cis, I wonder how it would do to let 
 them loose. Nig may be would get home of his 
 own notion, and may be we could send word home 
 where we were." 
 
 " So we could, to be sure ! '' said Cecil, eying 
 Ally with a certain astonishment; why hadn't he 
 thought of the plan instead of stupid Ally ? Well, 
 
190 WE ALL. 
 
 he wasn't as sure as lie had been tliat Ally was so 
 stupid. Meanwhile poor Ally looked anything but 
 cheerful. He had fished a lead-pencil out of his 
 pocket and was writing his note on the back of a 
 letter. His pale eyebrows were knitted, he bit his 
 tongue in the dangerous and improper fashion that 
 he had whenever he became excited. The letter 
 finished, he wiped his heated brow with a very 
 soiled handkerchief and sighed deeply. 
 
 Cecil took the paper handed to him and read : 
 " Dear sis, we are in a mighty bad sceap fixing to 
 go to the hantid store. Please come quick and help 
 us. Get Mr. Crane. I reckon the hants will kill 
 us if you dont. Im sorry I treated you so mean 
 if I'm killed you can have my horse and my books 
 please give mamma and papa my love and Cobbs to 
 and my fivedollar gold piece and my silver watch. 
 Your Loving Brother Alan R. Seyton. P S — You 
 look after Lary." 
 
 Cecil, for once, did not feel inclined to smile at 
 Ally's great sprawling hand and original spelling. 
 He was touched. Lightly as he viewed the spec- 
 tral perils, they were real and most dreadful to the 
 Southern boy ; yet Ally did not dream of deserting 
 him. 
 
 " He is braver than I," thought Cis. He felt 
 
THE HOG-HUNT. 191 
 
 ashamed of his supercilious treatment of the simple- 
 hearted boy. Yet he couldn't quite bring himself 
 to abandon his gorgeous visions of shining as a 
 specter-tamer. He handed back the note, merely 
 saying, " That is just the thing." 
 
 And Ally carefully (liis tongue still between his 
 teeth) tied it on to l!^ig's bridle with a bit of twine. 
 Almost as if he could understand and would speak, 
 the horse arched his neck, looked steadily at Ally 
 with his liquid eye, and then, turning composedly 
 trotted off into the darkening wood. Kasmus 
 limped after him. 
 
CHAPTEE XI. 
 
 " ha'nts ! " 
 
 The two boys watched the horses out of sight. 
 ^Neither spoke, but each w^as conscious of a lone- 
 some, chilly sensation, like the night air. 
 
 Involuntarily both looked at the red ball sink- 
 ing behind the black trees. Ally spoke. "We 
 better make haste," said he, gruffly, " if we want to 
 get to the store before dark." "With that he struck 
 into the underbrush. Cecil followed him, saying 
 nothing. 
 
 There was a clearing about the store. When 
 the boys came out into the open, they could see the 
 black and battered shape outlined against a dim, 
 steel sky. 
 
 Once it must have been a substantial building ; 
 but the roof had settled awry, doors and windows 
 gaped, the shingles had peeled from the roof, the 
 bricks were tumbling from the cliimneys, and the 
 floor of the porch on one side had sunken away 
 
"HA'NTSI" 193 
 
 from its supporting column, which, by consequence, 
 was poised crookedly in the air, giving the whole 
 porch the appearance of just stepping off from the 
 house. 
 
 Ally had come to a full halt. " There's a right 
 smart of room under that piazza,'^ said he. " What 
 you say to camping under there ? We could be 
 right snug and comfortable." 
 
 " And not go into the house ? " 
 " There ain't nothing to see in the house." 
 But we could build a fire — A sudden clutch 
 of his arm cut the words short. Ally pointed to 
 the store. They both saw it — a long, thin, torch- 
 like flame, that leaped athwart the black square, 
 once a window, quivered, and sank. 
 
 They both heard it — the tap-tap of a hammer 1 
 " Let's run, Cis ! " whispered Ally. He did run 
 a little space ; but, when he was aware that Cis 
 wasn't with him, he came back. Cis stood, rather 
 white, examining his revolver. The house was 
 dark and still. Hearkening and holding their 
 breath, there came a harsh, wailing cry, that made 
 Cecil present his pistol. 
 
 " That ain't nothing but an owl," said Ally ; he 
 
 was shivering, but he did not look as pale as Cecil. 
 
 " I'm going up to that house," said Cecil, firm- 
 
194 WE ALL. 
 
 ly ; "a fine story we'll have to tell to-morrow if we 
 hear a noise and run ! " 
 
 "Cobbs says 'tain't no disgrace to run when 
 there ain't nothing to be got by staying," said 
 Ally, the cautious. 
 
 " But there is something," urged Cecil ; " may 
 be we'll find the ghost." 
 
 Strange to say, the prospect didn't appear to 
 tempt Ally. 
 
 ^' I don't believe it's anything but tramps," said 
 Cecil, putting on a bold front, which, to tell the 
 truth, he was far from feeling, " and if it is, per- 
 haps they'll have something to eat. Anyhow, I'm 
 going to find out." 
 
 He would have run across the clearing had not 
 Ally detained him. 
 
 "If you're going," said Ally, "you might as 
 well go quiet like round by the trees. If it's 
 tramps, it won't do any harm; and if its moon- 
 shiners, it will be a heap safer. Hush, now ! Do 
 Hke I do." 
 
 Yery cautiously, in Indian fashion, skirting 
 along the trees in the shadow of an evergreen 
 hedge, the lads crept up to the house. Certainly, 
 sounds came from the house, and no starlight or 
 sunset ever lighted up the rooms like that. Never- 
 

"HA'NTSI" 195 
 
 theless, though they could hear their own hearts 
 beat, they kept on. Outside the hedge Ally fell on 
 his hands and knees, and so crawled up to the wall 
 of the room that seemed to be lighted. The weath- 
 er-boarding had huge cracks, through which (so 
 slightly are Arkansas houses framed) one could see 
 plainly into the rooms behind. 
 
 Ally glued his eyes to a crack. Cecil instantly 
 crept to his side. Before he could look, he felt his 
 cousin's cold hand on his lips. A kind of electric 
 tremor of emotion ran from one young creature 
 to the other. Somehow Cis knew that Ally saw 
 something horrible, and just as surely he divined 
 that this sight of horror was an overwhelming sur- 
 prise. 
 
 If he didn't see, he could hear. There came a 
 rattle of hammer-blows, a deep hum of voices ! 
 
 Cis pushed closer. He answered Ally's dumb 
 
 caution with a nod before he peered through the 
 
 crack, to recoil as if he had been shot, stifling an 
 
 exclamation. Instantly Ally pulled him away, and 
 
 began with infinite caution to crawl back into the 
 
 shelter of the hedge. Swiftly as he could, Cecil 
 
 crawled after him. Ally motioned him to pass 
 
 him — to hurry. The boys' faces were white ; they 
 
 tore their hands and knees on the hard ground as 
 13 
 
196 WE ALL. 
 
 they pressed forward in frantic liaste, that yet never 
 made a sound. 
 
 Not until they stood in the shadow of the 
 cypresses, rods away from the house, did they 
 venture to speak ; even then it was in a whisper, 
 while they caught each other by the arm, tremb- 
 ling. 
 
 " Cis," whispered Ally, " did you see ? " 
 
 " Dawsey ! " whispered Cecil back. 
 
 " He'd have done us as he did Cobbs's brother- 
 in-law," said Ally, drawing a deep breath, " or 
 worse. Oh ! ain't he a terrible wicked man ! " 
 
 "What, then, had the boys seen? The scene 
 might not strike every one as a spectacle to send 
 two brave lads scampering off on all-fours like 
 frightened mice. 
 
 They had looked in on a bare room, furnished 
 with nothing beyond a lamp (the broken chimney 
 of which explained the ominous flickering light), a 
 stained pine table, a box with a tangle of green- 
 covered wires, bottles and brass knobs near it; a 
 heap of rings and small, round, flat, black objects 
 strewed over the table; a kettle smoking in the 
 ruined fireplace; an anvil in one comer, littered 
 with hammers and sledges, and a cheap, strong 
 trunk in the other. 
 
"HA'NTS!" 197 
 
 Dawsey and two otlier men were the occupants 
 of tlie room. 
 
 Dawsey stood before the fire, looking at some- 
 thing in the palm of his hand. One of his com- 
 panions hammered at the anvil ; the other, with 
 bared and dripping arms, bent over the box. His 
 hands were full of silver. 
 
 Perhaps a boy might suppose that this scene 
 meant only an honest workshop — perhaps, again, he 
 might guess that the men were counterfeiters ; and 
 that what they made was base money to defraud the 
 Government and rob the poor. 
 
 Ally knew very little about counterfeiters, but he 
 knew a great deal about Dawsey ; the real mean- 
 ing of the scene — more than that, the true explana- 
 tion for whose mysterious horrors of fright and 
 torture that his father had sought to solve in vain 
 — flashed over him with paralyzing completeness, 
 swallowing up^ every other sensation in a panic of 
 fear and fury. Rage as much as terror shook Ally's 
 nerves, w^hile Cecil only realized their danger. 
 
 " They must have caught that man," said he, 
 ** and burned his hand, and made him swear not to 
 tell!" 
 
 "I reckon they hurt him awful^^ Ally mut- 
 tered, " and made him swear awful things, too ! 
 
198 WE ALL. 
 
 And, then, he knew they were going on doing their 
 wickedness and he couldn't stop 'ein, and that's what 
 made him feel bad." 
 
 " I dare say thej hit that negro man with one 
 of those hammers." 
 
 " Thej 'lowed to kill him," said Ally, " but his 
 skull was too thick." He shut the knife which he 
 was holding in his hand. 
 
 " Dawsey would have killed us if he had found 
 us," said Cecil, in a hushed tone, and he could not 
 repress a shudder. " Come on ; they may catch us 
 yet ! " he urged, hurrying blindly forward. 
 
 " E"o," said Ally, " not that way, Cis ; we just 
 have to get home to-night and to send folks over 
 yonder. And we got to go back a little to strike 
 the old road. That's our only chance." 
 
 "Oh, I can't!" cried Cecil. 
 
 " Well, we have to," said Ally, " else we'll wan- 
 der about all night ; and may be Sally and them will 
 come after us, and then — " 
 
 " I'll go," said Cecil ; " that would be too horri- 
 ble ! " 
 
 "Well, I don't know — depends," said Ally. 
 " Not if she fetched enough of our folks along ; but 
 you see we can't tell." 
 
 Cecil, now, was as eager as before he had been 
 
"HA'NTS!" 199 
 
 reluctant ; but Ally said that they must stay in their 
 covert until it was too dark for them to be observed 
 from the house. 
 
 " I know where the road starts," said Ally ; 
 " there's a big dead sycamore-trunk right at the 
 turn. We can't miss it. And in about an hour the 
 moon will rise. Stay here half an hour." 
 
 It was a nerve-trying half -hour. The lads were 
 chilled to the bone with fright and the nipping 
 night air ; remember, it was December. Gusts of 
 wind rattled the cypress-branches, and the tliick 
 ropes of muscadine and trumpet-vine tangled about 
 the gum-tree trunks. The owls hooted dismally 
 above them. They fancied a hundred sounds of 
 pursuit in the creaking of tree-limbs, or the splash 
 of falling acorns into the pools of the swamp, or the 
 piercing calls of the wood creatures. 
 
 And steadily, steadily the night blurred the 
 lines of landscape and forest, and that dark house 
 of crime. 
 
 Huddled close to each other, the boys waited. 
 Ally's arm stole about Cecil's neck ; Cecil's arm 
 clasped Ally's waist; their cold cheeks touched as 
 they whispered : 
 
 " Cis, I truly am sorry I hit you." 
 
 Then Cecil's pride broke clean down. " I was 
 
200 WE ALL. 
 
 to blame, Ally," lie cried, with a sob in his voice. 
 "I didn't mean what I said about Cobbs. If we 
 get out of this, I'll do something nice for him." 
 
 " I hadn't ought to have got so mad," Ally went 
 on, penitently. " Ain't it queer — if I hadn't thought 
 so much of you I wouldn't have been half so mad ? 
 Say " — in a half -embarrassed tone — " do you know 
 I wanted to cry and hit you at the same time ? I 
 never did see a boy I liked as much as I do you." 
 
 And Cis — could it be the little premature man 
 of the world who answered ? " And I never saw a 
 boy I liked as much as I do you. I^ow, Ally, let 
 us be friends all our lives long, like the old knights, 
 brothers in arms, you know." 
 
 "All right," said Ally, who had not the least 
 idea what Cecil meant, but thought that it sounded 
 nice and friendly. " Or like your father and mine," 
 he added, after a second's thought. 
 
 " Yes," said Cecil, very low. 
 
 They were both silent a little while. Though 
 he was such a big fellow, and felt desperately morti- 
 fied at his weakness, the thought of his father so un- 
 nerved Cecil that the tears rolled down his cheeks. 
 He knew what his father's grief would be if harm 
 came to him. And he had brought Ally into the 
 danger, too ! 
 
'^ Got i/ou?' revolve)' ready, Cis^" 
 
"HA'NTSI" 201 
 
 " It's my fault ! " lie burst out ; " if I hadn't per- 
 suaded you, you never would have come." 
 
 " Well, I don't know," said Ally ; " I reckon it's 
 a good thing we found out. Come, Cis, it's dark 
 enough." 
 
 They stood up. Then, to Cecil's surprise, Ally 
 knelt down in the mud and covered his face witli 
 his hands. " I 'most forgot to say my prayers," said 
 he, simply ; " papa always did say his prayers before 
 he went into battle. Got your revolver ready, 
 Cis ? " 
 
 " It's ready. Ally." ■ 
 
 Ally nodded. He stole softly out of the wood, 
 Cecil close behind. They heard the hammers ring- 
 ing, but the window must have been screened in 
 some way, as the only sign of light was through 
 the gaps in the walls. 
 
 They ran. Their feet made no sound on the 
 soft ground. They ran and ran — past the sycamore, 
 down the clear space, until the breath failed them, 
 and Ally gasped ; " I reckon we're all right now ; I 
 can't see the house." 
 
 There was no time to rest ; they went on more 
 slowly. One danger had only given place to an- 
 other. To Cecil there was no trace of a road, but 
 AUy's woodsman's eye marked a kind of band run- 
 
202 WE ALL. 
 
 ning through the woods where there were no trees, 
 or only trees of a smaller growth. More than once 
 they were obliged to leave even this poor trail, be- 
 canse the water had overflowed the road at every de- 
 pression. On these occasions Ally carefully noted 
 in which direction they turned. " Go to the right, 
 then I bear to the left, and we get back," said he ; 
 " same way going to the left, bear to the right. 
 There'll be more of a road by and by when we come 
 to the old corduroy." 
 
 They tramped on and on, so tired now that they 
 were past talking. After a long time. Ally stopped. 
 The moon rode high in the heavens. He could see 
 down the road. He leaned forward. 
 
 " There were two roads here once," he muttered. 
 I don't know which way to turn — " 
 
 Then he suddenly pulled Cecil into the shadow 
 of the trees. 
 
 " Do you hear ? " he whispered. 
 
 " They're after us ! " gasped Cecil. 
 
 What they both heard distinctly was the gallop- 
 ing of horses. 
 
CHAPTEE XII. 
 
 VANCE S MESSAGE. 
 
 Meanwhile how had it fared with Sally ? 
 
 Yance forgot to deliver the message. Forget- 
 fulness was not rare T\dth Yance, he being, accord- 
 ing to his mother (and she ought to know), "de 
 triflin'est nigger in de Black Kiver bottom." But 
 to-day he had a valid excuse. This was how it hap- 
 pened : 
 
 As Yance slowly dragged his heels through the 
 sandy road to the ferry, discontent rioted in him. 
 He looked at the woods where the persimmons 
 were just right ; and he thought of the knives to 
 polish, and the water to " pack up," and the wood- 
 boxes to fill, and that detestable churn waiting for 
 him, and it seemed to him that he was the most 
 defrauded colored boy in creation. 
 
 " I'se so tired," was Yance's plaintive moan, 
 while he crawled along at a snail's pace — " I'se so 
 tired, and I cayn't git time to breave ! Ever'body 
 
204 WE ALL. 
 
 on earth makiii' me run errants ! Dar come Mist' 
 Eufe Baxter. Expec' he fixin' to make me go 
 somewhar. Folkses mus' t'ink I got iz many legs 
 iz a caterpiller, fmn de rmmin' dey axes iiv me ! " 
 
 But grumbling was wliisked into delight by 
 Baxter's first hail : " You Yance, you' mummer say 
 you kin go errant fo' me to Aunt Yalley Lemew's. 
 I got a mule yere. lYud ye like ter ? " 
 
 A long ride through the woods, with indefinite 
 opportunities for tarrying by the wayside, " long er 
 gittin' mired up." — Yance turned a handspring of 
 joy. " Yes, Mist' Baxter — yes, sah, I likes it fine ! " 
 
 Baxter moored his boat and rode his mule 
 ashore. Then he explained the errand, which was, 
 to obtain from Aunt Yalley (for twenty-five cents, 
 intrusted to Yance) some rabbit's brains to rub the 
 Baxter baby's gums, and a bit of rabbit's stomach- 
 skin to hang round its neck, because the baby was 
 fretting with its teeth ; and, as any darkey can tell 
 you, nothing will help teeth-spasms like rabbit's 
 brains and a bit of the stomach tucked under the 
 child's frock. " An' you mummer say," Baxter 
 concluded, " you is to make haste ; an' she doan 
 want nare pussimmons, so ye doan need t' stop an' 
 pick 'em ; an' she doan want nare sassafras nur nare 
 wood-truck 'tall ; so ye doan need to make out like 
 
VANCE'S MESSAGE. 205 
 
 ye stopped to git some f o' her. You is jest to go 
 like I tole ye. You heali me ? '^ 
 
 Yance was as ready to promise as he was slack 
 to perform. He rode off in a blissful mood. And 
 a beautiful ride he did have. Just to live is so 
 pleasant when the sun shines and you are a black 
 boy mth the sharpest of eyes and limberest of 
 arms and legs, and no more conscience than a 
 squirrel. 
 
 Yance timed the " turrible bad road " so w^ell, 
 that he got to Aunt Yalley's exactly in season for 
 her midday quail-pie and coffee. Aunt Yalley's 
 snares defied the game-laws ; and she liked the 
 taste of "wild meat." With the quails and fried 
 sweet-potatoes appeared a smoking pan of corn- 
 bread, flaky and golden-brown, "wid" (to quote 
 Yance) " a plumb hebbenly smell." 
 
 Aunt Yalley was a cook before she was a 
 conjure- woman. She often said, "Ain't nuffin I 
 likes better'n t' cook a nice meal er yittles fo' a 
 man pusson dat hab got 'preciation." 
 
 She greeted Yance hospitably ; gave him the 
 brains in a vial and the dried skin neatly slung on 
 red twine (that she had begged at the store), took 
 the quarter, and pressed the customer (by proxy) 
 to " dror up." Little urging was required. Yance 
 
206 WE ALL. 
 
 got his dinner, and Aunt Yalley got all the " big 
 house " gossip that Yance knew. 
 
 A small, pale girl came in, just as they sat 
 down, and would have run away again ; but Aunt 
 Yalley called her back : " Come in. Rose Ma'y ; 
 nobuddy gwine moless ye." 
 
 The girl edged herself behind the table, to an 
 accompaniment of explanation by Aunt Yalley. 
 " She am a po' orphin chile dat come down on de 
 cyars wid her maw to visit her aunty at Promussed 
 Lan' ; an' her maw, she did drap down daid in de 
 kyars " (Aunt Yalley had a lurid fancy), " so I'se 
 a-keepin her twell her aunty kin come fo' her." 
 
 " Well, sir ! ain't dat hard % De po' little 
 trick ! " said Yance, decorously ; all the while 
 thinking, " Ef dat doan be Larry Harkness, he 
 sho' got a twin sister." 
 
 I don't suppose Aunt Yalley was deceived by 
 Yance's long face ; for she was a very shrewd old 
 woman, and she knew well enough that the talk 
 about Larry's disappearance would reach Yance. 
 It may be that she had a kind of relish for her fic- 
 tions, which she enjoyed at her ease, secure in the 
 universal hatred of Dawsey, and the terrified re- 
 spect felt for her by her own race. She knew 
 that Yance no more dared to "mad Aunt Yal- 
 
VANCE'S MESSAGE. 207 
 
 ley" than lie would dare to box Lis mother's 
 ears. 
 
 "Well, now, honey," she continued to her 
 coffee-cup, after a ref resiling gulp, " I doan be 
 so sho'. Dat chile's maw did treat her outragis. 
 She used to stan' ober her wid a hickry, an' ef she 
 didn't go straight ahaid, she jes wropped it roun' 
 her. But Rose Ma'y, she tempers her paw, and 
 minds right good. Her paw ben a mighty nice 
 man an ben struck by lightnin', an her unlies' brud- 
 der ben et up by de hogs." 
 
 Yance allowed himself a feeble grin. A grin 
 on a negro's face doesn't imply merriment only, 
 but a medley of feelings: he may be pleased, he 
 may be frightened, he may be angry — in fact, 
 there is hardly any emotion that a negro can't fit 
 with a grin ; therefore, Yance grinned. 
 
 Meanwhile, Eose Ma'y, not in the least affected 
 by the calamities in her family, ate silently and fast. 
 
 Aunt Yalley enlarged on her theme. She gave 
 the minutest and ghastliest particulars of the only 
 brother's end, until the black listener's eyes rolled 
 in his head. 
 
 " An' how come, is you axin me " (Yance hadn't 
 opened his mouth except to gape with horror) " how 
 come dat boy git dem hogs after him ? I tell you. 
 
208 WE ALL. 
 
 He did chase de li'le piggies jes to devil 'em, an' 
 de big pigs git ayfter him." 
 
 Aunt Valley fixed an awful eye on Yance. " I 
 seen boys, heap er times, chasing a passel er li'le 
 pigs," said she, in a deep voice. Yance's teeth chat- 
 tered ; he remembered a boy who liad chased pigs 
 no later than that morning. 
 
 " My ole mammy offun tell me 'bout de big 
 conjure hog. Dem boys meet up wid Kim some 
 day, den dar be fun ; but de hoys won't hab it ! " 
 her voice breaking in a harsh cackle of laughter. 
 
 " Oh, laws ! Aunt Yalley, what 'bout dat conjure 
 boar ? " gasped Yance ; ^' whar does he run ? " 
 
 Aunt Yalley, in a gloomy and impressive man- 
 ner, filled her coffee-cup ; more gloomily, more im- 
 pressively she drank the coffee, rocking herself to 
 and fro between gulps, and gurgling broken sen- 
 tences of blood-curdling mystery. " Shill I tell the 
 chile ? It's awful secrut ! Mymy, mymy, if dat 
 boar does be a-harkin', he t'ar de hairt out wid 
 his tushes, sho' ! INo walls kin hender him. Oh, 
 how high he is ! Laws, de eyes er him ! Laws, de 
 tushes er him, dreepin' wid blood ! Oh — A, hoi]) ! 
 oh — A, holjp ! oh — A, holp ! " 
 
 The last was in the eerie negro wail that pricks 
 tlie nerves like needles. 
 
VANCE'S MESSAGE. 209 
 
 The -vrretclied Yance turned an aslien, muddy 
 brown, wliicli is the negro tint for pallor. 
 
 Even Kose Ma'y stopped munching and stared. 
 
 " Mo' coffee," moaned Aunt Yallej. 
 
 Eose Ma'y filled her cup, while Yance, with 
 trembling obsequiousness, tipped over the cup that 
 served as a sugar-bowl and flooded the saucer with 
 milk. 
 
 '' Is dat de manners you larns waitin' on de 
 quality ? " Aunt Yalley demanded, sternly ; but 
 she allowed herself to be pacified, and finally did 
 tell the story of the conjure boar. I never heard it 
 from any one but Aunt Yalley, and I inchne to 
 consider it her own invention for professional pur- 
 poses ; just as the lizard (which any skillful conjurer 
 can throw into people) is used by her brethren of 
 the black art. 
 
 The conjure boar is different. He is as much 
 bigger than other wild hogs as he is more ferocious 
 and powerful. He is so strong that, when he wants 
 pecan-nuts, he needs only to rub himself against the 
 tree, whereupon the tree shakes violently, and bush- 
 els on bushels of nuts fall. His dreadful teeth are 
 so sharp that he bites off limbs of trees T^'ith them. 
 He outruns the deer in the woods, and he tires the 
 fishes in the rivers ; and he can see at niffht, like the 
 
210 WE ALL. 
 
 owls. But the most nightmare accomplishment of 
 this monster is his power to transform himself 
 into a little feeble pig with a red nose. In this 
 shape the nnwarj small boy will sometimes pursue. 
 Woe, woe to that boy ! The way the conjure boar 
 (who swells and swells until he bristles in his origi- 
 nal proportions) devours him by slow stages is 
 really, as described by Aunt Yalley, too appalling 
 to repeat ! Aunt Yalley had a peculiar heart-rend- 
 ing shriek (the property of the small boy in transit 
 into the boar) and an indescribably terrifying and 
 ravening clash of teeth (the boar's teeth) that made 
 a boy afraid to go home alone. 
 
 Even Eose Ma'y looked scared and stopped eat- 
 ing, while Yance was in a state of abject terror. 
 
 " Dat ar conjure boar cayn't hu't m^," conclud- 
 ed Aunt Yalley, " nur he doan crave ter, kase I'se 
 alius good t' beastes ; but if," with dark significance, 
 " I ben a boy dat chase li'le pigs — Is'e 'lookin' out 
 when I'se in de woods, dat's all. 'Kase — you hush ! " 
 
 " O Aunt Yalley, what dat ? " 
 
 What indeed? A hoarse, unearthly, crackling 
 roar! 
 
 "It's A^m.'" yells Kose Ma'y, who can stand 
 no more, and disappears in two leaps — one over the 
 chair, the other through the door. 
 
VANCE'S MESSAGE. 211 
 
 Howl after howl rolls out of Yance! Not 
 enough stiffening left in his legs for flight; he is 
 only a squirming heap on the floor. 
 
 " Get up, you Yance, and look beliind you ! " 
 bawls Kose Ma'y, having mustered courage to look 
 around ; " 'tain't nuthin' on earth but a mule." 
 
 Yance came out of his trance enough to fling 
 one glance over his shoulder. Behold, at the " lean- 
 to " door, four mild, long-nosed brute faces peeping 
 in, as usual, for their dinner ! The mildest, longest- 
 nosed mule wrinkled his nostrils, bared his teeth, 
 and brayed. Then Yance did manage to rise flab- 
 bily and wobble into a chair. 
 
 But could any one expect him, after such an ex- 
 perience, to mind Master Ally's word to Miss Sally ? 
 Why, he was so scared that Aunt Yalley had to 
 come home with him in her wagon. He was so 
 scared that it didn't occur to him until the next 
 morning that the braying mule was Mr. Hen- 
 derson. 
 
 But Yance's forgetfulness had consequences. 
 
 Had Sally received the message, she would have 
 
 gone directly in pursuit of the boys ; for she would 
 
 not have been misled, for a moment — Ally was 
 
 stupid to expect such a thing. It is a question 
 
 whether the boys would have joined in the hunt ; 
 14 
 
212 WE ALL. 
 
 in any case, they would have gone straight home 
 — ^no " ha'nts," no counterfeiters, then ! 
 
 Well, you know that Yance didn't deliver the 
 message ; and Sally went about her morning duties 
 in peace : consulting with Aunt Cindy, dusting the 
 ornaments, arranging the holly and red berries in 
 the vases, all very conscientiously, like the little 
 born housewife that she was. She found Ally's 
 chessmen, too, in a crack of the hearth ; and then 
 wrote a long letter to mamma, telling her some 
 very private surmises of her own concerning Daw- 
 sey and the Ku-klux. These various occupations 
 kept her from missing the boys before dinner. 
 Dinner, South, is sometimes at half-past one, some- 
 times at half -past two. To-day, dinner was at half- 
 past two to allow Aunt Cindy's sweet-potato pone due 
 time for baking. The sweet-potato pone, I should 
 explain, is not bread (pone usually means a loaf), but 
 the most delicious of puddings, made, like Mother 
 Goose's little girls, of " sugar and spice and every- 
 thing nice," including candied lemon-peel, preserved 
 ginger-root, and citron. At two o'clock, Aunt 
 Cindy pronounced the pudding to be " far nuff 'long 
 to dish up dinner." So Rufe was sent to blow the 
 horn for the boys. 
 
 "And why doesn't Yance come help Eelia set 
 
VANCE'S MESSAGE. 213 
 
 the table ? " said Sally. Aunt Cindy could account 
 for Yance, but there was no clew to the boys' wan- 
 derings. 
 
 Rufe crossed the river and blew the horn at the 
 store. He went down to the gin, he went to the 
 smithy, he looked in at the carpenter-shop, and Mr. 
 Crane's house. Finally, he met Mitchell, who had 
 seen the boys ride off. Yance had brought them their 
 horses. Yance might know where they had gone. 
 
 There was no Yance to consult. Sally had her 
 own opinion. 
 
 " Anyway Cobbs will sure send them back," she 
 thought, resolved to wait a little while for Yance. 
 She ate her dinner. Aunt Cindy bemoaned the un- 
 appreciated potato-pone, " dat dem boys had orter 
 knowed 'nuff to stay an' eat," and promised Yance 
 " de bud, sho', fo' takin' his time and pleasure dat a 
 way, an' not makin' haste." I may note here that 
 Yance did not get the " bud " — Arkansas for a 
 whipping — ^instead he got the reversion of the po- 
 tato-pone, when he finally appeared. Yance made 
 enough of a story of his sufferings to appease his 
 mother, and enhance Aunt Yalley's reputation. 
 Besides, there was Eose Ma'y, or Larry ; all in all, 
 he was quite too interesting to be interrupted by a 
 thrashing. 
 
214 WE ALL. 
 
 Long before this, however, Sally had gone in 
 search of the boys. She couldn't take Henri, be- 
 cause he was with the hunters. She told Mr. 
 Crane. He did not like to leave, nor to let the 
 other clerk go, because it was a busy time at the 
 store. The cotton-wagons were coming into the 
 gin, and the farmers or " renters " who brought the 
 cotton liked to tarry a little at the store for pur- 
 chases. 
 
 " We're shaort-handed anyhow," remarked Mr. 
 Crane, patting Sally's pony with a worried look 
 — " so many at the hunt, and the colonel away. 
 Say, Miss Sally, don't you think you had better go 
 home and wait awhile ? The boys are sure to be 
 all right. Cobbs will look after them, and there's a 
 plain trail to get to the camp. They'll turn up at 
 sundown, peart as peart. You see if they don't! 
 If they donH^ why, we all will hunt them up. Or, 
 say, don't you want to come in and see the new 
 Christmas goods? There are some breast-pins 
 and ear-bobs jest like you ben seekin' for Aunt 
 Cindy." 
 
 " No, thank you, Mr. Crane," answered Sally, 
 " I don't guess I want to see them. I'll go up to 
 the house to see if Yance has come." 
 
 " Yes, that's a good girl," said Mr. Crane, and 
 
VANCE'S MESSAGE. 215 
 
 plunged back into tlie cotton accounts and Christ- 
 mas bargains, 
 
 Mitchell, who was cleaning his boots with a 
 stick on the front-store steps, in such a position that 
 he could hear the talk on both sides the door, threw 
 away his stick and straightened himseK to watch the 
 little girl. 
 
 " Two to one," said Mitchell to Crane, " that 
 your young lady rides after those boys." 
 
 " Oh, no, sir, she won't," said Crane, giving Aunt 
 Pearl Hotchkiss her last bundle ; " she's the best 
 girl on earth. — ISTo, Aunt Pearl, we point-blank 
 cayn't sell you anything more. You won't have ten 
 cents coming to you Christmas." 
 
 " Looks like you all don't encourage customers 
 much," said IVIitchell. 
 
 ""We wouldn't have much to encourage us at 
 the end of the year if we did," said Crane. 
 
 " Well, that may be. Say, I don't guess there'll 
 be any pressing need of me at the blacksmith-shop ; 
 and, if you'll furnish me with a horse, I'll carry Miss 
 Sally to the camp." 
 
 " All right," said Crane, who knew that Mitchell 
 was to be accommodated in every way, " but I don't 
 guess you'll need to." 
 
 [N'evertheless (inwardly fmning at Mitchell's no- 
 
216 WE ALL. 
 
 tions, and demanding to himself, Why didn't the 
 feller tend to business, and find out about the Ku- 
 klux, instead of forever loafing at the store ?), Crane 
 ordered the horse. 
 
 He hoped that Sally would prove the detective 
 mistaken, and was almost angry with her when he 
 beheld her on the ferry-boat. A little later she 
 was riding past the gin down into the bottom ; and 
 Rufe Baxter rode beside her. 
 
 Mitchell joined Baxter and Sally on the edge of 
 the wood. He touched his hat and apologized to 
 Sally so civilly that Eufe for the first time suspect- 
 ed the new blacksmith of a better station. 
 
 " If you don't object, Miss Seyton," was his last 
 sentence, " I'll accompany you." 
 
 " Dat ain't no ragged man's talk," thought Rufe, 
 staring at the outline of Mitchell's cheek-bones and 
 one ear. " Wash hissef tew clean, back er his face, 
 tew ! He doan be nare po' wi'te trash." 
 
 Sally's novel title (she had only been Miss Sally 
 before) sounded very grand in her ears ; and before 
 she had ridden a mile she considered Mr. Mitchell 
 a very nice man indeed — not so nice as papa, of 
 course, or Uncle Hugh Carrol, or Cousin John Rai- 
 mund, or Cobbs ; but nicer than Mr. Crane, and 
 right entertaining. She prattled away to him, 
 
VANCE'S MESSAGE. 217 
 
 grateful for his consideration and pleased with his 
 company. He seemed so interested in papa, and 
 in Cobbs too, and wanted to hear all sorts of things 
 about Dawsej. 
 
 Eufe, plodding in the rear, sharpened his ears 
 and grinned maliciously over stray sentences. 
 
 " Guv ye my word," thought Eufe, " dat man 
 ain't no mo' blacksmiff dan turkey-buzzard does be 
 a turkey ! " 
 
 MitchelFs watch had shown some minutes past 
 three when they started ; by the time they reached 
 the bayou, where the hunters had left tlie traveled 
 road, the last red of sunset had faded out of the 
 west. At this same hour, hardly two miles away, 
 Ally and Cecil were standing, looking with sink- 
 ing hearts at their lame horse and the darkening 
 skies. 
 
 Sally carried two lanterns. 
 
 "Come, I like that," said Mitchell; "you're a 
 good provider. Miss Seyton." He really felt kindly 
 toward the bright, frank little creature. 
 
 Sally proposed that some of them should sing, 
 in order that, if the boys were coming home, they 
 might hear the sounds and be cheered. So Eufe, 
 who now rode ahead with the lantern, as being the 
 best woodsman, lifted up a splendid barytone and 
 
218 WE ALL. 
 
 sang until the woods echoed, " Ilarlc^ fd' de tombs 
 a dumful souvb " — to cheer the bojs. 
 
 They were obliged to go slowly, the wagon- 
 tracks were so faint in places, and it was so dark 
 in the woods. Thus an hour passed. They had 
 entered the cane. Eufe was still singing; having 
 exhausted the tombs and several negro hymns of 
 of an equally lugubrious turn, he was now sailing 
 at the top of his lungs through " Ziney." 
 
 "Ziney, Ziney, Ziney, now," chanted Rufe — 
 meaning Zion — 
 
 " I wunner whut de mattah wid Ziney ! 
 Ziney doan mohn like she uster mohn,* 
 O Lawd, give a h'ist unter Ziney!" 
 
 Because Eufe was so busy with the trail he did 
 not see, and because he sang so lustily Sally did not 
 hear; but, straight through the charred "glade" 
 to the right, a lame horse hobbled toward them, 
 neighing for joy. 
 
 Mitchell both saw and heard ; he touched Eufe's 
 shoulder, and called to him to listen. 
 
 "Fo' de Lawd, dat nicker p'intedly does soun' 
 like ole Easmus ! " cried Eufe. 
 
 Poor Sally grew pale. Easmus riderless and 
 
 * Mourn. 
 
VANCE'S MESSAGE. 219 
 
 lame; what did it mean? Tliey soon made sure 
 that he had no company ; for their hails and calls 
 echoed lonesomelj back to them, and there came no 
 returning shout. 
 
 Mitchell, with a cheerful air, supposed that most 
 like the fool horse had run away from camp. 
 
 "Reckon he made a blunder and sprained his 
 shoulder," was Mitchell's version of the accident. 
 " 'Tis sprained, you see ; and the boys thought, see- 
 ing they had but one horse between 'em, and no 
 doubt the other horse was tired, that they would 
 wait over until to-morrow." 
 
 His reasoning did not convince Sally any more 
 than it did Eufe, who said patiently, " Yes, sah," to 
 every suggestion; and privately did not believe a 
 word. Sally did not pretend assent; her anxious 
 little white face, in the lantern-light, made ffitchell 
 sorry for her. 
 
 She seemed to be thinking. " Please don't go 
 on, for a moment," she said ; and the two men 
 waited while she sat on her horse, looking wistfully 
 down the black pathway. 
 
 Then she turned to Eufe. " Wliat do you think, 
 Eufe?" said she. 
 
 Eufe was an honest negro, he answered : " I 
 dunno whut to t'ink, missy ; whut you t'ink ? " 
 
220 WE ALL. 
 
 " I think we must go on to the camp, Rufe, 
 and get Henri, He will find Ally, if anybody 
 can." 
 
 " And I think you have the levelest head in 
 the crowd, Miss Seyton," said Mitchell — " hay, 
 Kufe ? " 
 
 " Yes, sah," said Eufe. 
 
 They rode on for half an hour more, when 
 Kufe shouted, and pointed to a glow in the sky 
 ahead of them. They were approaching the camp- 
 fire. Presently they could perceive silhouettes of 
 men and horses wavering against the flare. 
 
 " Looks like dey all projeckin' roun' a hoss,^^ 
 said Eufe. " Hebbenly name, hit's 'Nig ! " 
 
 Nig it was. Being a sagacious horse that had 
 eaten a good meal at the camp only four miles 
 away, he decided to return there, instead of travel- 
 ing eight miles to his supper. 
 
 Cobbs read the note. Cobbs believed in ghosts ; 
 but at the same time he remembered his old com- 
 mander's theories of outlaws. Therefore, he got to- 
 gether four of the boldest spirits among the hunters 
 and was preparing to start as our little party 
 reached the camp. Ten minutes later they were on 
 the road, Henri capering and barking joyfully all 
 along the line of march. Once really in the forest. 
 
VANCE'S MESSAGE. 221 
 
 his demeanor changed ; he ran back to Sally, 
 snuffed at the heavy boys' coats that the provident 
 little maiden carried slung over her saddle-bow for 
 improvident boys, who, when it is warm in the 
 morning never imagine that it may be cold at 
 night ; looked up into Sally's face — a wistful, 
 human look ; and, when she said, "Go find Ally 
 and Cecil, Henri — good Henri ! " barked a few 
 short barks (" Like a dog sentence," said Sally), 
 wagged his tail, and ran to the head. From this 
 time forward he loped sedately along, his black 
 muzzle to the ground. 
 
 " He will find Ally," said Sally, in a confident, 
 sweet voice, " he has promised." 
 
 " Follow the dog, men ! " commanded Cobbs. 
 
 Henri led the company to the place where the 
 boys had halted and Ally had told Cecil the story of 
 the haunted store. 
 
 " Cudn't a gone straighter ef we'd set aout fur 
 the store," said the old hunter who had pitied 
 Cobbs's brother-in-law. 
 
 " Well, I bet on dogs ever' time. Mist' Eose," 
 said a grizzled ex-Confederate comrade of Cobbs, 
 who owned as many scars from war and hunts and 
 river accidents as he had fingers and toes, but was, 
 in his own words, " sich a blamed fool that he 
 
222 WE ^LL. 
 
 cu'dn't no more keep away from danger than some 
 folks cud from whisky." 
 
 JSTot until they had left this spot and gone on to 
 a cypress-brake barely a hundred rods from the 
 store, was there any flicker in Henri's confidence. 
 Here he made his first halt, then he ran uncer- 
 tainly, with a zigzag progress up and down the 
 road, whimpering all the time, now and then bark- 
 ing, displa^dng a plain anxiety. 
 
 This was the thicket to which the boys had fled, 
 turning on their track, after their glimpse of the 
 counterfeiters. 
 
 His doubts didn't last. Yery soon, with a loud 
 yelp, Henri ran to a tall cypress and struck across 
 the brake in a direction diagonally opposite and 
 leading farther and farther away from the house. 
 
 After a second's hesitation : ^' Poller the dog, 
 men," called Cobbs ; " the ole man understands his- 
 self , and I bet on him ever' time." 
 
CHAPTEE XIIL 
 
 THE END OF A WICKED MAN. 
 
 "While Henri was proving himself sncli a trusty 
 path-finder, Cecil and Ally picked their darkling 
 way through the wood. At last they heard the 
 hoofs of horses speeding over a bit of high 
 ground. Cecil, as I have said, gave himself up for 
 lost, and cocked his revolver, desperately resolved 
 to sell his life dearly. But Ally leaped in the air 
 with a shout : " Whoo-op ! "Whoo-op-ee ! "Wlioo- 
 ojp-ee ! See the lanterns ! " he yelled ; " see Henri's 
 white plume ! Oh, see the riding-skirt ! It's Sally ! 
 Sally's come herself ! Hurrah ! Whoo-pee ! " He 
 continued to shout until his breath gave out ; then 
 he grinned. 
 
 The next sound that Cecil heard was Cobbs's 
 voice : " Ally, Ally, are you all right ? " 
 
 It only seemed a minute until they were all 
 halting their horses on the road, and Sally was 
 hugging her brother and Cecil, too — quite forget- 
 
224: WE ALL. 
 
 ting her awe of lier immaculate cousin — and Cobbs 
 was trying to explain. 
 
 Ally would not let the men dismount, l^o 
 sooner did he see Mitchell's face among the riders, 
 than he called out to him and hurriedly told his 
 tale. "You can catch 'em right at it if you go 
 now," said the ever-practical Ally. 
 
 Mitchell's eyes flashed. He ran his keen glance 
 down the row of men. " Seven of us," he an- 
 nounced, exultingly, " all armed. We can bag the 
 whole gang." 
 
 "You'll have to count one of us out," said 
 Cobbs ; " somebody's got to look out for the cun- 
 nel's children." 
 
 " The way home is easy enough," answered 
 Mitchell, with suppressed impatience ; " besides, 
 I'll trust those boys to find their way out of any- 
 thing going." 
 
 "All the same," said Cobbs, doggedly, "them 
 cusses mought run this way; an' the road ain't 
 none tew easy findin.' The cunnel give me the 
 gyuardin' of 'em, and I'll see 'em safe home." 
 
 Mitchell shrugged his shoulders. "Any one 
 else wanting to stay and take care of children ? " 
 said he. 
 
 " Ef you mean to say, Mist' Mitchell, or what- 
 
THE END OF A WICKED MAN. 225 
 
 ever your name is, that I'm trjin' t' git outer 
 fightin'," Cobbs began — 
 
 But Ally interrupted : " Everybody knows you'd 
 rather fight than eat, any day, Cobbs ; but don't be 
 fighting Mitchell. — And you better make haste, Mr. 
 Mitchell, or they all will be packing up their tools 
 and lighting out." 
 
 "True for you. Bud," said Mitchell.— " Come 
 on, boys. You may as well understand now that I 
 am a detective from Little Rock, come up after this 
 very gang you all been harboring for three years 
 and never suspected. Ten dollars apiece to every 
 man that follows me. I have the warrant in my 
 pocket. — Mr. Cobbs, I was only fooling. You're 
 quite right. If you hear us holler on you, just 
 hold up 1 " 
 
 With that he was off, very willingly followed by 
 the other men. 
 
 "We'll come too, if you like, Mr. Mitchell," 
 Ally called after him. 
 
 But Mitchell only laughed ; and Cobbs groaned : 
 " Oh, my Lawd, Ally, ain't I givin' enough up fur 
 to gyard you without you bein' so omstreperous ! " 
 
 Ally was touched. " That's so, Cobbs ; 'tis terri- 
 ble hard on you," he said. " Cis and I will behave." 
 
 " Yes," said Cis, sighing. 
 
226 WE ALL, 
 
 Now, at last, was a chance for explanations. 
 
 ""Well, it's lucky you came, sis," was Ally's 
 first comment ; for there'd only been Cobbs's men 
 to figlit the counterfeiters, and he would have gone 
 to the store instead of here. Say, did you get my 
 letter?" 
 
 " Oh, yes ; Cobbs gave it to me." 
 
 " Well, that's all right ; and you know I won't 
 never be mean to you, or not ask you to go with 
 me — anywhere." 
 
 " O Ally," cried the little girl, almost in tears, 
 " you never are mean to me. You're just the best 
 brother in the world." Ally submitted very pa- 
 tiently to be kissed ; he even returned a rough boy- 
 ish hug, and patted Sally on the shoulder. 
 
 " Well, anyhow, I'm mighty glad to see you," 
 he said. " I'll be glad to get home, I tell you ! I 
 reckoned one time, out there, we never would get 
 home. And I'm terribly hungry, too." 
 
 Cecil laughed, but Sally exclaimed, remorsefully : 
 " Oh ! how could I forget ? I was afraid you would 
 have got lost or mired up somewhere, and missed 
 your dinner, so I put up a luncheon — O Cobbs, 
 jplease unstrap the basket in my riders ! " 
 
 "How thoughtful of you, Sally!" Cecil said; 
 and Ally, already devouring chicken-sandwiches. 
 
THE END OF A WICKED MAN. 227 
 
 remarked tliat Sally had good sense. Tliey were 
 all three busy with the sandwiches, hard-boiled 
 eggs, milk, and cake, when an interruption came 
 that dispelled Cecil's appetite effectually. 
 
 Cobbs stopped in his questioning of Ally re- 
 garding his experience ; he held up his hand. 
 They all heard the reports of guns — once, twice ; 
 then the slighter rattling sound of pistol-shots ; 
 then the guns again. 
 
 " Firing back," said Cobbs. 
 
 *^ They've run away ! " said Ally. 
 
 They listened intently, but the forest was silent. 
 
 Cobbs drew a long sigh. " I don't doubt it's 
 been a mighty pretty little fight," said he, wist- 
 fully. ^' Well, it are plumb over now. Hope they 
 got 'em." 
 
 " I hope none of them got killed," said tender- 
 hearted Sally. 
 
 Ally had gone back to his luncheon. Cecil 
 could not eat. It was easier to talk to Cobbs, 
 who was the most artless admirer of the boys' 
 heroism. 
 
 " "Well, to think on't — jis' you two — not a mite 
 
 afeerd ! " So he would exclaim, always putting out 
 
 his hand to pat Ally on the shoulder. 
 
 Cecil noticed that the horses went very slowly. 
 15 
 
228 WE ALL. 
 
 He surmised tliat Cobbs was delaying in hopes that 
 the attacking party might overtake them. 
 
 So, indeed, it fell out. Some miles from the 
 plantation they saw torches dancing beliind them, 
 and presently heard shouts. Mitchell's voice was 
 louder than any of them. 
 
 " Oh, ask liim if any of our folks are hurt ! " 
 begged Sally ; and she clapped her hands with re- 
 lief over the answer, " ^ot one." 
 
 But the counterfeiters, they soon discovered, 
 had not been so fortunate. One of them had been 
 killed outright ; and Dawsey, after a desperate re- 
 sistance, had been captured. The third man had 
 gained his horse and escaped. 
 
 Dawsey was bound hand and foot, and placed 
 before Mitchell on the latter's horse. With two 
 unbandaged wounds he was a ghastly spectacle ; but 
 his eyes, dim with mortal agony though they were, 
 met Cobbs's gaze as savagely as ever. 
 
 Mitchell briefly narrated the story of the suc- 
 cessful surprise. 
 
 " Feller that got off is wounded ; and, if we get 
 back in time to telephone a telegram or two, we 
 can have him stopped. This one here is hurt pretty 
 bad." 
 
 " Killed," said Dawsey. His voice was not loud- 
 
THE END OF A WICKED MAN. 229 
 
 er than a wliisper. "An' lucky I am, tew. Fur 
 whar's the use ? Convict-camps are worse — say, 
 lemme git off this cussed hoss, and lay me down, 
 for the Lord's sake ! Lemme die, easy — if ye kin." 
 
 Mitchell, after one keen glance in the man's 
 face, stopped his horse and bade them lift Dawsey 
 down, 
 
 Dawsey lay back on the ground, gasping heavily. 
 After a second he signed Mitchell to come nearer. 
 " I'll make a clean breast of it," he groaned — and it 
 seemed to Cecil a most horrible thing, the contrast 
 between his faint voice and the fury of hate and 
 balked wickedness that still burned in his eyes and 
 distorted his face. 
 
 " It's you trapped me, not them fools ! 
 
 (He collected his strength for a vile oath, which he 
 hurled at Cobbs in his weak whisper.) " I ben — 
 yere — goin' on — that a-way" — so the strange con- 
 fession went on — "for five year — nobody mistrusted 
 but onct — we branded A^m, an' made him swar not 
 to give us away. I wanted to kill him, but the boys 
 was too chicken-hearted. But I marked old Dick's 
 mark on him. A nigger come in on us afore — I hit 
 him from behind with a hammer — but the blamed 
 cuss's head ben so thick, didn't kill him." 
 
 He stopped a moment to gather strength. Colo- 
 
230 WE ALL. 
 
 nel Sejton always believed that this wicked man 
 was crazy. Let that merciful explanation pass for 
 the reason of his acts now. The men, stunned and 
 awed by a wickedness that quite escaped their sim- 
 ple imaginations, stared at the dying man in blank 
 silence. All but Cobbs. He stepped closer. " Who 
 killed you' brother-in-law?" said he. Dawsey'sface 
 changed ; something nearer human feeling softened 
 his pinched features. He muttered the answer half 
 to himself : " I hated the feller always, but I'd let 
 him 'lone caount er sis, if he hadn't come to mis- 
 trust baout the. money. I ben 'bleeged to kill him 
 then. An' I jest natchelly hated the boy for fa- 
 vorin' of him so. Say, the boy kin have all my 
 leavins' ; he's my onliest kin." 
 
 "Another thing," said Cobbs, who seemed to 
 have taken charge of the inquisition, Mitchell, with 
 an amused smile, subsiding into an observer—" an- 
 other thing, did ye play Ku-klux 'tother day ? " 
 
 Dawsey's head was sunk on his breast ; but he 
 raised it with the same look of ferocious mahce. 
 His voice rang out in a new strength. " You, 
 Cobbs, ye hnow I done it ! Ye know better'n any 
 one; Luke, that's gone, and him that's shot went 
 with me, and — and — one other man .^ " By a vio- 
 lent effort he raised himself on one elbow, and 
 

 1%^; 1^^ 
 
 o 
 
 «%- .-« 
 
 '^: 
 
THE END OF A WICKED MAN. 231 
 
 shook his free arm at Cobbs — a horrible sight, with 
 his blood-smeared figure and the hatred in his death- 
 smitten face. " You dast t' ax me ? " he screamed. 
 " You was with me ! You planned it all ! You — 
 you — Cobbs ! — " He struggled hideously to speak ; 
 but his jaws quivered and gasped without a sound. 
 The movement had started an internal haemor- 
 rhage ; in five minutes Dawsey was dead, without 
 having uttered another word. 
 
 His last effort of hatred had been successful. 
 Mitchell was not the only one to cast sidelong 
 glances of suspicion at Cobbs. 
 
 Cecil burst out even before Ally : " It's an abomi- 
 nable lie ! That fellow lied when he was dying." 
 
 Ally called on Dawsey to speak again; and 
 Sally ran to Cobbs and clung to him, crying out 
 that nobody would beheve that wicked man ; but the 
 others looked bewildered and abashed. Cobbs read 
 their suspicions in their faces. 
 
 " Do you all believe that liar ? " he cried. 
 
 They did not answer, unless it were an answer to 
 murmur something about " looked like a dying man 
 would be tellin' the truth." 
 
 " If you didn't do it," said Mitchell, soothingly, 
 "you can easy prove where you were that night, 
 and there'll be an end of it." 
 
232 WE ALL. 
 
 " Wliere I ben ? " growled Cobbs. " I ben in 
 my bed, sonn' asleep, in course." 
 
 " Any person with ye ? " said Rose. 
 
 " How cu'd tliar ben wlien I lives by my 
 lone ? " 
 
 "That's unlucky," said Mitchell. "Well, we 
 better be coming on." 
 
 Cobbs sank into a frowning fit of abstraction. 
 Sally, who rode at his side, would look up at him 
 occasionally, but she did not speak, and for the most 
 part was equally busy with her own thoughts. 
 
 Cecil had quite gone over to Cobbs's side. He 
 whispered to Ally : " I'm sure Cobbs didn't do it, 
 any more than we did. The hard thing will be to 
 account for that night. He was off hunting the 
 mule, you know ; that's what that Mitchell was after 
 when he pumped us." 
 
 They were riding just behind Cobbs, and Cobbs 
 had the ears of a hare. He suddenly turned in his 
 saddle. " Well, dad gum my skin, ef it warn't that 
 very night!" he exclaimed. "I ben studyin' an' 
 studyin' 'baout it to get at which night it ben. My- 
 my! mjrniy!" 
 
 Having thus spoken, he appeared to dismiss the 
 subject from his mind, except that once he burst 
 out laughing, and said to Ally, " That ar constable 
 
THE END OF A WICKED MAN. 233 
 
 feller, he thinks himself mighty blamed smart, don't 
 he?" 
 
 But Cobbs's serenity did not quite reassure his 
 young friends. The others in the party were di- 
 vided in mind. " 'T wasn't no great harm they done, 
 onyhow" — the general sentiment was fairly ex- 
 pressed by one — " only I don't see how he cu'd be 
 60 thick with old Dawsey after what he done to 
 Peters, tew. That ar's the wust thing I know baout 
 the business." 
 
 In this fashion they talked as they rode home- 
 ward, and perhaps the only thoroughly well pleased 
 man in the company was Mitchell. Had any one 
 ridden close enough, that listener might have heard 
 him mutter: ""Well, there's a year's job well fin- 
 ished. It was worth coming up here for." 
 
CHAPTEE XIY. 
 
 CECIL DOES SOMETHING NICE FOE COBBS. 
 
 How does news travel in a small place when 
 there are no newspapers ? Somehow it must be cir- 
 culated, since the hours of " preaching," the births, 
 deaths, marriages, and every other catastrophe will 
 be duly known in an incredibly short time. For 
 instance, the morning after the capture of Dawsey, 
 behold Aunt Yalley Lemew, at the store, with Larry 
 in bold attendance, full of the story. She was in 
 all the glory of her best amber necklace and brass 
 breastpin. Her white apron was stiff from the 
 ironing-board and she wore a fine new turban. 
 
 But more noticeable than her holiday costume 
 was her mule ; for she was mounted on the 
 cherished and lamented Mr. Henderson, while 
 Larry rode Melodeon — him of " de lubly voice." 
 " Yes'm," Aunt Yalley said calmly to Aunt Pearl 
 Hotchkiss, " yes'm, dat's Larry Harkness, sho' nuff. 
 I ben hidin' of him f'om de wrath er de wicked, 
 
CECIL DOES SOMETHING NICE FOR COBBS. 235 
 
 kase Miss Sally and de cunnePs folk fotch him to 
 me an ax me pertect liim." Aunt Yallej proceeded 
 to give an account of Larry's " ganted " * and 
 " gaslily " f appearance ; and described, at length, 
 her successful treatment of the "hurtin' in his 
 ankle." Indeed, she was so eloquent that she al- 
 lured two new customers on the spot for her 
 " sprain mextery," a colored woman with a sprained 
 " leader i in her laig," and a white man with a " ris- 
 in' " * on his thumb. Let me do Aunt Yalley jus- 
 tice : her surgery in both cases was entirely success- 
 ful. " An' now," she concluded, having made ap- 
 pointments with her patients — " now, I'se fotch de 
 chile, yere, fo' to get de cunnel be his guardeen, 
 now his uncle ben killed up, and look after his 
 prupputy. Say de law guv him all ole Dawsey 
 got." 
 
 " Ain't dat 'ar Mist' Henderson ? " Aunt Pearl 
 Hotchkiss asked. 
 
 " "Well, yes'm — yes, Sist' Hotchkiss, dat does be 
 Mist' Henderson, Larry^s mule. De po' critter 
 come back to me, yestiddy " (I fear Aunt Yalley put 
 
 * Ganted, thin. f Gashly, ghastly. 
 X Leader, tendon or muscle. 
 
 * " Rising " in Arkansas, is applied to every kind of swelling, 
 from a pimple to a felon. 
 
236 WE ALL. 
 
 the date forward several days), " nickerin' an' rubbin' 
 bis nose to de corn-bin, plumb starved up." 
 
 Some one else observed that Aunt Yalley had 
 discarded her usual cane. To all inquiries regard- 
 ing her health, she responded, with a grin : " Heap 
 better, sho\ De news nuff to cure heap wusser 
 rheumatiz nur mine." 
 
 Being Saturday morning, which is the great 
 trading day all over the rural South, the long dim 
 room was crowded. "White faces and black jostled 
 each other. Everybody was talking at once; and 
 the theme was always the same, namely, the won- 
 derful ha]3penings of the night before. Aunt 
 Yalley was the center of a group of colored people — 
 Looney, Eufe Baxter, Aunt Pearl, Uncle Joe Peat, 
 and others — all as eager to impart news as to re- 
 ceive it. Had she heard of Dawsey's blaming it on 
 Cobbs ? 
 
 Yes, she had. Well, Mist' Cobbs ben a mighty 
 nice man, but he never did ben right kind to the 
 colored folks. " But laws ! I ain't a word to say 
 ag'in Mist' Cobbs ; de cunnel Hke him," said Aunt 
 Yalley ; and she shook her head dismally, and took 
 out her snuif-box, dipping her stick in it and rub- 
 bing her teeth, with the forbearing air of one who 
 could say a world against Cobbs if she would. 
 
CECIL DOES SOMETHING NICE FOR COBBS. 237 
 
 Looney was franker; said he, "Well, I don't 
 reckon they kin prove it on him, but I 'lows he 
 done hit." 
 
 "An' him a-puttin' on dog" — this was Aunt 
 Pearl Hotchkiss — " a-ridin' roun' de kentry axin' 
 folkses fool questions ; How many folkses come to 
 see 'em? "What kind o' hosses dey ride? an' all 
 sich." 
 
 " It fa'rly does give me de all-overs to t'ink er 
 Mist' Cobbs bein' so wicked ! " wailed Aunt Polly 
 Peat. 
 
 " Doan t'ink it, den," said Eufe Baxter, bluntly : 
 " you ain't no call to. You alius 'lowed ole Dawsey 
 ben a liar ; dunno how come you is all trustin' him, 
 jes' kase he lies bout Mist' Cobbs ! " 
 
 Among the whites, Cis was Cobbs's most vigor- 
 ous defender. Such a metamorphosis may seem 
 odd ; really, it was the simplest thing in the world. 
 There were only half a dozen people alive dear to 
 Cis ; but since, yesterday. Ally Seyton had become 
 one of the number, and I fancy that Sally had been 
 one for days ; and Cecil's affections, once touched, 
 had no reserves. So, quite as a matter of course, he 
 took the war-path for Cobbs, on Ally's behalf. lie 
 had been captured by a knot of idlers who were 
 eager to hear about the tragedy from an eye-witness. 
 
238 WE ALL. 
 
 First, he must tell the story. The audience gave 
 the most flattering attention, only interrupted by ex- 
 clamations of admiration or very brief moral com- 
 ments, such as — " Them wicked men never does end 
 well," or " Waal, tell you 'taint safe to be makin' 
 b'lieve ha'nts ; now they got to be real ha'nts, shore 
 nuff." 
 
 From the story it was an easy transition to the 
 outlaw's charge. 
 
 " Well, to my mind," argued a farmer, " it does 
 look sorter bad, Cobbs not bein' willin' to go with 
 the rest to arrest Dawsey ; looks like he didn't want 
 to mad Dawsey." 
 
 " "Why, you don't suppose Cobbs knew who the 
 counterfeiters were?" cried Cecil; "do you think 
 he knew the ghosts were counterfeiters ? He hadn't 
 any reason to like the ghosts, or the counterfeit- 
 ers, after the way they treated his brother-in- 
 law ! " 
 
 " Suthin' in that ! " cried the old hunter. Rose, 
 who had wriggled his lean shoulders through the 
 crowd up to the stove, against which he now rest- 
 ed the sole of one muddy cowhide boot, on a ledge, 
 half-way up the side. " Yes, sir, thar is. What fur 
 wu'd Cobbs be runnin' with Dawsey ? They two 
 hated each other like pizen." 
 
CECIL DOES SOMETHING NICE FOR COBBS. 239 
 
 May be that was pretense, some one said. Cobbs 
 might have been in with Dawsej all the time. 
 
 Most of the company would " hate for to think 
 that of Cobbs." 
 
 " So'd I," said a farmer ; " Cobbs is a nice man. 
 But them fellers made a turrible sight of money, 
 and if a man was in it, he'd do 'most anything 
 to keep on and not get caught." 
 
 Another man suggested that Cobbs did have a 
 good deal of money lately. Last summer he had 
 bought a cow and yearling, and paid cash, and only 
 this winter he got a new saddle, a plumb good one, 
 cost twenty dollars ; and had they all ever seen the 
 furniture in his house ? He had a marble-top table 
 in his parlor, and mighty pretty colored pictures 
 — such things cost money, and Cobbs was mighty 
 generous with his money, too. Yes, two or three 
 agreed, he was so ; Cobbs gave a heap of money 
 away : two dollars to the colored church, a dollar 
 to the Christmas-tree at the school-house, and fifty 
 cents to a man with a broken leg ; and he lent money, 
 besides — two hundred dollars to Priam Kitchen and 
 seventy dollars to a Avidow on "Willow,* to keep her 
 from being sold out — yes, sir, Cobbs had money. 
 
 * A small river. They always say " on Willow," or " on 
 Black," omitting the article. 
 
24:0 WE ALL. 
 
 The country doctor, a round-shouldered, near- 
 sighted, very young fellow, who kept up the dig- 
 nity of his profession by a shabby black frock- 
 coat, now struck into the conversation. He really 
 had not the slightest feeling against Cobbs ; but he, 
 like Cecil, read detective novels, and suspected the 
 least likely person. The idea of Cobbs's carrying 
 on a lurid career of crime in secret, during all these 
 years of prosaic good repute, was quite in accord 
 with the theories. That was just how they did in 
 the novels. He could see the possibilities, if these 
 rustics couldn't ; here was a chance to impress the 
 community. 
 
 "Where did Cobbs get all his money," said 
 the doctor, " and why does he lend round so 
 free ? " 
 
 "Well, I can tell you just where Cobbs got 
 his money," answered Cecil, speaking quietly and 
 distinctly, " and just why he gives it away or lends 
 it. He gets it from his own hard work and his 
 own bravery ; he helped save my father's life once, 
 and my father bought some property for him, and 
 it has risen in value, and he gets two hundred dol- 
 lars a year from it, every January. And last year, 
 at Christmas, my father sent him fifty dollars for a 
 present. 
 
CECIL DOES SOMETHING NICE FOR COBBS. 241 
 
 " It ben in January lie lent Kitchen the money," 
 muttered Rose. 
 
 " And he earns good wages because he can do 
 more work than three — " 
 
 " That's so," said Rose. 
 
 " That's where he gets the money," said Cecil, 
 growing a little hot over his ow^n oratory, " and he 
 lends it out and gives it away because he is a gen- 
 erous, kind-hearted man — and you ought to know 
 that better than I do." 
 
 " We do," and, " Hurrah for you. Bud ! " cried 
 several voices. Evidently, whatever they thought 
 of the Ku-klux business, Cobbs's old acquaintances 
 would not accept him as a counterfeiter. 
 
 Old Rose shouted approval, emphasizing his 
 words mth a stamp on the stove-ledge that had 
 like to have been dangerous, since it loosened the 
 stove-pipe. 
 
 " There, now," exclaimed Crane from behind 
 the counter (where he had been strictly neutral, 
 "Selling goods, sir, and not talking about any- 
 body " ) — " there, now, colonel told me to mend that 
 pipe, and I've been 'lowing to do it all the week. 
 — Say, Looney, git the step-ladder and give it a 
 boost ! " 
 
 "What I don't imderstand" said the doctor, 
 
242 WE ALL. 
 
 availing himself of the partial pause caused by 
 interest in Looney's proceedings — " what sticks 
 me, is how Dawsey, a dying man, could want to 
 make such a confession for, unless it was true." 
 
 "Easy 'nuff for a feller ez full of spite like 
 Dawsey ben," snorted Rose ; " the critter'd ruther 
 a-done a meanness than eat ary day." 
 
 " And I don't understand how Cobbs would dare 
 ask Dawsey questions," said Cis, " if he knew Daw- 
 sey could tell such things." 
 
 " Suthin' in that," said a farmer. He turned to 
 a new-comer, the same grizzled ex-soldier who had 
 been on the expedition with Cobbs overnight. 
 " Howdy, Mist' Kitchen ? Looks like you' ole side 
 partner. Sergeant Cobbs, got into trouble, don't it ? " 
 
 "How's that?" said Kitchen. He heard the 
 talk in answer with frowning attention. Some one 
 else was listening quite as attentively — a little, 
 stunted figure, that must stand on tiptoe to lift a 
 peaked, pale little face above the crook of his elbow. 
 Larry had stolen away from Aunt Yalley, and was 
 drinking in every word. 
 
 " This I call the case against Mr. Cobbs," said 
 the doctor, pushing his soft, black hat off his high 
 forehead. " In the first place, Mr. Dawsey's (mU- 
 mortem statement — " 
 
CECIL DOES SOMETHINa NICE FOR COBBS. 243 
 
 An inquiring mind wanted to know what was an 
 ante-mortem statement ; was it anything like a jpost- 
 mortemj^ like the cor'ner's jury made \ 
 
 " You hush ! " Rose rapped out testily. " Don't 
 ye know what ante-up means ? Don't ye have to do 
 that afore ye play ? Well, he antes-up with his 
 confession afore he dies." 
 
 " First, there is Dawsey's am^te-mortem confes- 
 sion " — the doctor recapitulated on liis finger-tips — 
 " made when he knew that he was a dying man, dis- 
 tinctly charging Cobbs with being in the gang that 
 frightened the negroes. That's one point. Second- 
 ly, Master Alan and Miss Sally Seyton, and Mr. 
 Cecil Ilaimund, here, have found the tracks of 
 the Ku-klux." (Sensation, and all eyes on Cecil.) 
 " They traced those tracks to Aunt Pearl Hotch- 
 kiss's house, to the Feats', to Looney's. One of the 
 heasts wds a lame inule, Mr. Cobbs has a lame 
 mule." (" That's so," and "Yes, sir, he has," from 
 the crowd.) " Thirdly, they picked up a handker- 
 chief marked *A. R. S.,' which stands for Alan 
 Raimund Seyton — " 
 
 "Well, do you think Ally did it ? " asked Cecil, 
 contemptuously. 
 
 " ITow, Ally Seyton," the doctor continued, not 
 
 noticing this peck at liim, "you all know, is a gen- 
 16 
 
244 WE ALL. 
 
 erotis boj. He gives away tilings ; he gave Cobbs 
 two handkerchiefs, on two separate occasions, as can 
 be proved bj witnesses." 
 
 Kitchen grunted, " That ain't nothin'." 
 
 "Fourthly, they found a clay pipe. Cobbs 
 smokes a clay pipe. Fifthly, it is well known that 
 Cobbs has had trouble with Mrs. Hotchkiss, with 
 Looney, Peat, and other darkeys, and wouldn't mind 
 giving them a scare." 
 
 " Well, I don't see any great harm ben done," 
 said Kitchen ; " a few folks scared, that's the most 
 of it." 
 
 " And lastly, gentlemen " — the doctor would not 
 be diverted ; he kept his right hand in the air, and 
 checked off the fingers with his left — "lastly" (he 
 tapped his right palm, having used up all the fin- 
 gers) — " lastly, it can be proved that Cobhs a/)id his 
 mule were not at home that night ! There's the 
 case." 
 
 Kitchen stared at the last sentence, then he broke 
 into a sardonic laugh. " Well, if that ain't the best 
 out at argufyin' I've heerd in a coon's age ! " he 
 jeered. " Lord ! I wudn't believe ye cud swar an 
 innercent man guilty that a-way if I didn't hear it 
 with my own ears. — Say, whar's Cobbs, Bud ? " 
 
 Two days ago, Cecil, whom he addressed, would 
 
CECIL DOES SOMETHING NICE FOR COBBS. 245 
 
 have raged at such impertinence ; but he knew the 
 country better now. In a friendly manner he an- 
 swered that Cobbs had gone by sunrise to send a 
 telegram to the colonel ; he ought to be back 
 soon. 
 
 " Reckon I'll sa'nter 'long an' meet up with him, 
 then," said Kitchen. — " Waal, good-mornin', doctor. 
 You're a smart talker, I will say." 
 
 He left the doctor uncertain whether to consider 
 himself complimented. 
 
 " One thing I kin tell ye," said Rose, buttoning 
 his patched coat, "you p'intedly was sharp not to 
 name counterfeiters to Kitchen." 
 
 "Why, it was Kitchen Cobbs lent the money 
 to ! " exclaimed the doctor, rubbing his yellow hair 
 over his forehead. 
 
 " Yes, sir," Rose answered, grimly, " and it ben 
 Dawsey held the mortgage and aimed to sell Kitchen 
 out body and bones. You talk baout Dawsey bein' 
 Cobbs's boss? Them a-workin' together? I wish 
 you'd a seen Cobbs and his boss that day ! Him an' 
 Dawsey had words, an' he knocked Dawsey spang 
 off his hoss into the bayou. He cyarried a bkck 
 eye roun' for a week, and the mark er Cobbs's 
 knuckles ez long ez he lived. Tell ye, I thought er 
 that day when I seen him a-laid out on the groun', 
 
246 WE ALL. 
 
 las' night. Thar ben the scar on his eyebrow, bum- 
 in' red." 
 
 Keally, the doctor was shaken ; but he could not 
 so easily give up his theories. He laughed in an 
 embarrassed way, and said that he was sure he 
 hoped Mr. Cobbs would clear himself; and made 
 the excuse of a patient, and so escaped, 
 
 " Doctor got all he wanted, I reckon," said some 
 one ; and the crowd laughed. 
 
 Cecil did not wait to hear more ; he, too, walked 
 off to seek Sally. His nerves were tingling with 
 the excitement and the success of his first speech. 
 It was amazing how pleased he was to have moved 
 people whom, yesterday, he would only have 
 wanted to hold at arms' length. But he had been in 
 danger of life and limb in company with some of 
 these men, and they were changed to him ; while 
 as to Cobbs, the more he defended him the more he 
 had felt certain of his innocence. By this time he 
 was almost as warm a partisan as Ally. 
 
 Outside, Yance was sunning himself on the 
 right-hand horse-block and counting his buttons; 
 an occupation by no means as futile as it may seem, 
 for Yance's buttons were the memoranda of domes- 
 tic needs. 
 
 Each article of prime necessity, like rice, sugar, 
 
CECIL DOES SOMETHING NICE FOR COBBS. 247 
 
 baking-powder, bowls, brooms, or the like, bad a 
 representative button on Yance's jacket. Cecil 
 often wondered why Vance bad so many buttons ; 
 but Aunt Cindy knew what she was doing ; tbere 
 are a great many tilings needed in a kitcben. "When 
 Yance was sent on errands a record was made, down 
 tbe front of bim, by simply unbuttoning the buttons 
 that represented tbe required articles. 
 
 Beside Yance rested some parcels and paper 
 bags, one of wbicb evidently contained sugar, for 
 having been set on a nail, it was trailing sweetness, 
 whitely and silently, through the rent in its side, 
 down to two appreciative pigs below ; while Yance 
 sat absorbed in his buttons, working his lips and 
 ducking his head as he fingered them. 
 
 Cecil hailed him : " What's the matter, Yance ? " 
 
 " "Why, mummer, she unbuttoned me dis time," 
 said Yance in an aggrieved tone, " an' she done 
 change up my buttons ! " 
 
 "That's bad, but you seem to have got the 
 things." 
 
 " No, I ain't, sah, I ain't got Miss Sally's t'ings. 
 She changed up Miss Sally's t'ings' button. She 
 ben rushin' me like she does, an I didn't have my 
 mind on 'er, and now I dunno whar Miss Sally's 
 t'ings ! " 
 
248 WE ALL. 
 
 " Perhaps it is the right button." 
 
 " Naw, sah, dat impossible. Mummer say, ' Git 
 'em an' go flyin' down to Miss Sally on de clay 
 bank below de gin.' Cayn't tote big iron soap- 
 kettle to Miss Sally. Dat whut de nint' button 
 mean." 
 
 " Perhaps it is the next button." 
 
 " Topper button coal-ile, unner button tin pans. 
 Mist' Cessil, f o' de Lawd dat de ve'y one ! Li'le 
 roun tin pans ! An go a-flyin' — " 
 
 " I'll take them for you, Yance." 
 
 Yance thanked him and ran nimbly into the 
 store, returning with a clatter, the pans under his 
 arm. They were small, round, and shallow, and 
 what Sally could want with them Cecil couldn't 
 fancy. However, he took them. He walked along, 
 over the withered grass, and thought, not for the 
 first time, how many colors Southern winter scenery 
 can show. 
 
 The rapid river was a rich green, the distant 
 willows were red, with a blue sky and a tumble of 
 white clouds against the horizon-line. White cot- 
 ton-bolls still spattered some brown fields ; in others, 
 the cattle were browsing, and the yellowish-brown 
 stalks glistened in the sun. The leafless under- 
 brush that fringed the river-bank was a dark pur- 
 
CECIL DOES SOMETHINa NICE FOR COBBS. 249 
 
 pie. Across the river tlie white sycamore-truiiks 
 showed like chalk-lines amid soft grays and browns. 
 Nearer, the great gum-tree by the gin was decked 
 in mistletoCc 
 
 The gin-doors stood open ; and the steam made 
 a buzzing noise, sending busy white curls up against 
 the dark roof. Cecil could see the cotton tossed 
 and shredded by the crooked iron fingers in the 
 room below, and the brown hooped bales tumbling 
 out of the upper window. The river-bank pro- 
 jected on the farther side of the mill, where Sally 
 ought to be. There, truly enough, she was, in her 
 oldest print frock, with her black braids and scarlet 
 hair-ribbon, digging in the clay. 
 
 " Whatever do you mean to do, Sally ? " cried Cis. 
 
 Sally straightened herself with a sigh of relief. 
 " There ! I've got enough. Cis, I'm doing detective 
 work." 
 
 " All right, Sally ; let me help you." 
 
 " You're right kind. Cousin Cecil — " 
 
 " No, I'm not, Sally, but I want to be. Tell me 
 about the detective work." 
 
 "Well, will you fill those pans with clay, and 
 pat it down this way ? " — Sally had a layer of clay 
 already covering the bottom of one of the tins. " I 
 want it for the mules to step in, you know." 
 
250 WE ALL. 
 
 " The mules to step in ? " 
 
 " Yes. Don't jou know what you told me about 
 Mr. Mitchell's suspecting Cobbs ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " "Well, one reason he does is because of Cobbs's 
 lame mule. ISTow, Cobbs didn't ride his mule to- 
 day ; and I'm going to have his mule step in one of 
 these, and then I'm going to have all the other 
 lame mules we know about step in. See ! there are 
 some pieces of paper, with all the mules' names 
 written on them " — she displayed some neatly 
 printed cards — " and we'll stick each mule's card in 
 as soon as he's stepped in, so we sha'n't get the 
 tracks mixed up, you know; and then we'll see if 
 any mule's track fits the paper of the mule's track 
 we found ! " 
 
 Cecil's first impulse was to laugh, but it was 
 instantly followed by a graver thought. 
 
 "Sally, I believe that is an idea," said he, 
 musingly ; " only that cad Mitchell has the pattern." 
 
 " I know," said Sally, " but I asked him for it 
 last night, and he said he couldn't give me that, but 
 he'd cut me out a pattern just exactly like it. He 
 was real pleasant." 
 
 "He's a chump. Suspecting Cobbs! call him- 
 seK a detectwe ! " cried Cis, with as much scorn of 
 
CECIL DOES SOMETHING NICE FOR COBBS. 251 
 
 Mitchell's obtuseness as if he had not suspected 
 Cobbs himself only yesterday. 
 
 " I know," said Sally, sadly — " that is awful ! 
 But he hasn't known Cobbs as long as we have, and 
 anyhow may be he's only pretending to suspect 
 Cobbs. Detectives always have to pretend, you 
 know." 
 
 "May be," said Cecil, doubtfully. They filled 
 their pans and then returned to get their horses. 
 Passing the store, Sally hesitated a moment. " See 
 Aunt Valley," exclaimed she, " and Larry ! I'm 
 going to ask her to stay to dinner. — O Aunt 
 Yalley," she called out, " stay and take dinner with 
 Aunt Cindy at the house." 
 
 Aunt Yalley accepted with a profusion of 
 thanks. Larry, looking very woe-begone was beside 
 her. He asked, " Whar Ally done gone ? " 
 
 " Oh, he went in with Cobbs to telegraph papa. 
 He'll be home soon." 
 
 Larry said nothing more, and, after a little talk, 
 Cis and Sally went on their way. They had gone 
 home, mounted, been ferried across, back again, by 
 Eufe, and were well out of sight, before a spring 
 wagon driven by two horses, drew up at the store- 
 door. Two men jumped down. One was a tall, 
 smiling, well-dressed man in a brown great-coat 
 
252 WE ALL. 
 
 The other man did not wear such good clothes and 
 he did not smile. 
 
 A visible sensation was created when these two 
 men walked into the store and asked for Mitchell. 
 
 Larry pressed closer to Aunt Yallej, whispering, 
 " "What you reckon the sheriff wants here ? " 
 
 " More'n I knows," said Aunt Yalley, placidly ; 
 " some time he come f o' taxes an' some time f o' evil- 
 doers. Dunno w'ich dis time." 
 
CHAPTEK XV, 
 
 SALLY DOES A NICE THING FOR COBBS. 
 
 Aunt Yalley had had a soul-satisf jing season 
 at the store. She had acquired two new patients, 
 collected half a dozen old debts, and made applicar 
 tion (to the sheriff) for board-money to be allowed 
 her for Larry's " keep." Besides all this, she had 
 enjoyed her gossip with true African relish. In 
 high good-humor she was propelling the meek and 
 dejected Larry to the door, when some startling 
 news arrived. 
 
 The mail-rider announced that the sheriff, his 
 deputy, and Mitchell, had arrested Cobbs and taken 
 him off to jail. He had his information from an 
 eye-witness, who said that Ally Seyton was " rarin' 
 an' chargin' " ; but Cobbs " made out like he didn't 
 much keer." 
 
 Here was new and vast excitement. All the 
 men and women in the store — their attention previ- 
 ously divided between Larry and Cecil — now clufi- 
 
254 WE ALL. 
 
 tered about the latest news-bringer. Sympathy for 
 Cobbs ran high. It was generally conceded that to 
 send a man to the penitentiary for " jis skeerin' up 
 a few darkies and hurtin' nary " was an overdose of 
 punishment. Cobbs was as honest a man as ever 
 lived. 
 
 Aunt Valley and Larry were on the outskirts, 
 when presently Larry's agitation attracted atten- 
 tion. An old negro had been telling how brutally 
 convicts were treated in the convict-camps — beat- 
 en, starved, worked to death, and flung into a hole 
 like a dog. Larry, at this dismal climax began to 
 whimper. 
 
 " Now, why fur ye snickerin' dat a-way ? " said 
 Aunt Yalley, crossly. Larry muttered that he ben 
 sorry for Mr. Cobbs, and Mr. Cobbs ben good to him. 
 
 " Fo' de Lawd's sake, hark to de chile ! " shouted 
 Aunt Yalley. " Does ye 'low dey sen' a w'ite man 
 to de penetenshuary f o' nuffin on earth 'cept skeerin' 
 up a few niggers ? You plumb crazy, chile. I knows 
 better. Come long by." She would have whipped 
 Larry under her capacious arm and departed, had 
 not Sally Seyton run directly in her path. Sally 
 was flushed with her ride in the cold air ; her dark 
 eyes sparkled, her pretty head was held high ; she 
 had never looked handsomer or more determined. 
 
SALLY DOES A NICE THING FOR COBBS. 255 
 
 Cecil admired her. He stood just behind her, 
 holding a basket in his hand. His riding-boots 
 were splashed with mud. 
 
 "Aunt Yalley," said Sally, "where has my 
 brother gone?" 
 
 "Hark to de chile! How I know?" 
 
 " Has Ally been here, Mr. Crane ? " said Cecil. 
 But Ally had not been seen at the store. 
 
 Then Sally turned resolutely to Aunt Yalley 
 again. 
 
 " Aunt Yalley, you have just got to help us," 
 were her words. 
 
 Aunt Yalley held up both hands. " How can 
 I holp ye, chile?" 
 
 To make the protesting gesture, she released 
 Larry, who instantly darted out of the store-door 
 in the direction of the woods. 
 
 " Now, whar dat boy kitin' an' traipsin' tew ? " 
 cried Aunt Yalley. — " Hole on, honey, wid you 
 wantin's ; I 'bleeged to kotch dat boy ! " 
 
 The last words came over her shoulder while 
 she trotted mth surprising agiHty after the flying 
 little shape. 
 
 " Come too, come too ! " Sally cried to Cecil. 
 " He's gone after Ally." 
 
 So indeed the boy had. He went straight as an 
 
256 WE ALL. 
 
 arrow to a favorite haunt of Ally's, the little knoll 
 by the river-side, where he used to fish. 
 
 But could that be Ally, that wretched lad flung 
 on the grass, sobbing as if his heart would break ? 
 
 He clambered to his feet at the sound of their 
 approach, and put on a miserable seeming of com- 
 posure, ramming his hands into his pockets and as- 
 suming to be watching for fish, while his eyes were 
 all red and swollen with crying, and his cheeks in 
 streaks for the same reason. 
 
 Sally fiew at him. " O Ally, don't feel so bad ! 
 "We'll get him out." That was what one would ex- 
 pect Sally to say. 
 
 But Larry did an astonishing thing. He was 
 quite out of breath with his hard running, and 
 had done nothing but stare at Ally ; now he spoke. 
 " ISTev' you mind. Ally, don't you take on ; they all 
 sha'n't hurt Mist' Cobbs ; Mist' Cobbs didn't done 
 it. / done it ! Aunt Yalley an' me. An' now," 
 gasped Larry, his feelings overcoming him, " they 
 kin take me off to them convict-camps an' kill me 
 an' — whop me — an' — not let me have nothin' — to 
 eatr' 
 
 Aunt Yalley reached the scene in time for the 
 last sentence. She broke out in wrath : " He does 
 be lyin' — lyin' ! Dat chile, how cud he done sich 
 
'*/ done iff Aintf Valhy (oi' me." ga-^pcfl harry. 
 
SALLY DOES A NICE THING FOE COBBS. 257 
 
 t'ings ? — You, Larry, how come jou goin' dat 
 a-waj? You want dem drivers far ye to pieces?" 
 
 Larry shuddered ; but he kept his eyes fixed on 
 Ally. 
 
 " I don't keer. I won't have Ally feel bad." 
 
 But, now, Sally took command of the situation. 
 " Aunt Yalley, you know all about it; you've got to 
 teU us." 
 
 " Bressed Marster ! Me f I doesn't know 
 nary ! " 
 
 "And /know, too," cried Sally, with an impe- 
 rious air, the effect of which on the negro woman 
 was very strange to see. " We found Larry's hand- 
 kerchief," Sally went on, " yes, and your pipe, and. 
 Ally doesn't know, but Cis and I went this morn- 
 ing and we found the mule that made the tracks." 
 
 " De tracks ! " bawled Aunt Yalley ; " waal, 
 missy, so Mist' Mitchell done, an' dey does say he 
 ben a constable from de Rock an' nare blacksmith 
 'tall ; an' he foun' de tracks er dat lame mule o' 
 Mist' Cobbs ; dat how come he mistrus' him in 
 de fustis place." 
 
 " There are other lame mules besides Cobbs's," 
 said Sally, steadily; "there's Abraham Lincoln, for 
 instance ; he's been lame a long spell. — Cis, show 
 her!" 
 
268 WE ALL. 
 
 Out of the basket, while Aunt Yallej glared at 
 every motion as a wolf might glare at the jaws of 
 a trap slowly closing on him, Cecil took two tin 
 pans or plates filled with moist clay and each tick- 
 eted with a slip of white cardboard. He handed 
 them to Sally. From his pocket-book he removed 
 a scrap of brown paper, which he unfolded, show- 
 ing it to be in the shape of a mule's hoof. 
 
 " That paper," said Cecil, " is the precise shape 
 of the mule's tracks which we found at the ford, in 
 Aunt Pearl Hotchkiss's yard and close to Looney's. 
 This " — he lifted one of the pans, and they all saw 
 the distinct mold of a mule's hoof — "this is the 
 footprint of Cobbs's niule. You will see, when I 
 put the paper on it, that they don't agree in the 
 least." 
 
 They all saw ; indeed, there was a full haK inch 
 of rim all round the pattern, in the print. 
 
 " Large foot Cobbs's mule has," said Cecil ; 
 " now here — thank you, Sally — here is the print of 
 Aunt Yalley's lame mule, Abram Lincoln — " 
 
 " It's no use. Aunt Yalley ; I ben goin' to tell ! " 
 cried Larry. 
 
 " The best thing you can do," said Cecil, calmly 
 putting the basket to rights. " There's the clay 
 pipe, too, with a nick in it. Mitchell has it safely. 
 
SALLY DOES A NICE THING FOR COBBS. 259 
 
 You were smoking a clay pipe at the store one day, 
 Aunt Yalley, and it dropped and broke, and Sally 
 was there and bought you another, which has a lit- 
 tle scallop or nick in it. There is just exactly such 
 a nick in the pipe that we found. AYant any more 
 evidence ? Or will you tell, and let us see what 
 we can do for you ? " 
 
 Aunt Yalley hugged herseK and swayed to and 
 fro, moaning. 
 
 " Yes, Aunt Yalley, you better tell," said Sally. 
 
 And Aunt Yalley did tell, seeing no escape. 
 She and Larry were all the Ku-klux that there 
 were — the old woman, the boy, and the two mules 
 that followed the others, docile as usual, mounted 
 by pillows wearing old hats. Aunt Yalley herself 
 was not nearly as crippled by rheumatism as it 
 suited her purpose to appear. In Uncle Hobson's 
 old clothes, with Dawsey's gun, she figured bravely 
 as leader of the band, represented by Larry (armed 
 with two tin pans and a dinner-horn) and the two 
 mules with the pillow riders. They made a formi- 
 dable enough band for such a timid race as the 
 negroes. 
 
 The motive was plain. She hoped to so excite 
 the odium of the country-side as to force Dawsey to 
 ran away. If the negroes or the whites lynched 
 17 
 
260 WE ALL. 
 
 the old man and killed Mm, so much the better, 
 thought the revengeful old woman. She knew 
 about Dawsey's habits, his mysterious visitors, his 
 midnight absences. She imagined that he was 
 making moonshine whisky — for neither she nor 
 any one suspected that false money was being 
 coined ; the shrewd counterfeiters circulated none 
 of their base coin in the neighborhood. 
 
 Aunt Yalley had no hope to convict Dawsey of 
 any such popular offense as making whisky. Then 
 came the brilliant idea to fasten a fictitious crime 
 on him, taking advantage of his real absence. 
 
 By occasional gifts of food to the half-starved 
 boy, for whom she felt a certain sympathy as a fel- 
 low-victim of Dawsey, she had won his confidence. 
 It was not hard to engage him in the plot by which 
 the crafty old woman planned to frighten Dawsey 
 out of the country. In her simplicity she expected 
 that she could walk over and take Mr. Henderson 
 away, once Dawsey was gone. 
 
 Larry had written the notes, but Aunt Yalley 
 had fired the gun, Larry helping on the dinner- 
 horn, and also clashing the two tin pans together 
 with a frightful clatter. 
 
 Such was the sum and substance of Aunt Val- 
 ley's confession, made with many sobs and groans ; 
 
SALLY DOES A NICE THINa FOR COBBS. 261 
 
 for she was now thoroughly repentant because tlior- 
 oughly scared. 
 
 Sally took the role of comforter. 
 
 " Never you mind, Aunt Valley and Larry ; we'll 
 protect you." 
 
 ^' If we can," said Ally, who couldn't forget his 
 caution. 
 
 " We will, anyhow," said Sally, her eyes glow- 
 ing. *• Why, Ally Seyton, do you mean you won't 
 protect Larry after he has confessed for your sake, 
 and got Cobbs out of prison — or just the same thing 
 — and there he is, trusting you so ! Will you be so 
 mean as to desert him % " 
 
 " Oh, put your eyes back, sis," said Ally, easily, 
 " I didn't say I wouldn't ; I was only talking about 
 couldn't. May be they better light out. We can 
 tell the sheriff." 
 
 " No, we can't ; he'll say we 'are making it up to 
 get Cobbs off." Ally was dumb. 
 
 It was Cecil who finally suggested that they get 
 a written confession, and then that Aunt Yalley and 
 Larry take the train at the station and go away. 
 He would furnish the money. 
 
 " O Cecil ! " cried Sally, " you always think of 
 the right thing." 
 
 " Doesn't he ! " said Ally, admiringly. " But I 
 
262 WE ALL. 
 
 think it was pretty bright of you, sis, thinking of 
 those prints. — I^ow, Larry, don't you go to looking 
 scared ; we'll take care of you." 
 
 "And won't I see you never no more?" said 
 Larry, miserably. 
 
 " Why, of course ; they don't need to stay, do 
 they, sis ? " 
 
 " And, Cecil, where must they go ? " said Sally. 
 
 " They might go to Little Rock, to mamma," 
 Ally broke in. " Say, don't you know Aunt Ernest- 
 ine is always wanting a cook ? And Aunt Yalley 
 can cook for her, and Larry can wait on table." 
 
 Anything more preposterous for table service 
 than Larry's figure Cecil thought that he had never 
 seen ; but then he remembered Yance, and wasn't 
 sure that Aunt Ernestine would be so critical. 
 
 On the whole, the plan seemed feasible. Aunt 
 Yalley groaned assent, and Larry said he was will- 
 ing to do whatever Ally wanted. 
 
 " Well," said Ally, " it's time for dinner, so let's 
 all go home, and after dinner they can do it." 
 
 Larry dined with the children, eating a very 
 large meal with every sign of appetite ; but, I dare 
 say, Aunt Yalley did not eat so heartily in the 
 kitchen. 
 
 After dinner they all assembled in the li\dng- 
 
SALLY DOES A NICE THING FOR COBBS. 263 
 
 room, where Sally had provided writing materials 
 on the famous marqueterie desk. 
 
 " "We'll have to wTite it," said Cecil. 
 
 " Hadn't they better write it themselves ? May 
 be they'll say we made it up." 
 
 " Oh, it isn't necessary. They sign, you know, 
 and there can be witnesses." 
 
 "Besides," said Sally, "they can't write well 
 enough. Aunt Yalley can't write at all, and it 
 would take Larry till plumb dark, and then he 
 wouldn't do it." 
 
 " But they've got to sign it ! " 
 
 " Oh, yes, and say ^ I acknowledge this to be my 
 voluntary act and deed.' That's the way papa does 
 when people come to sign deeds. He says that to 
 them, and they say ' I do.' " 
 
 Aunt Yalley uttered a deep groan. " I nev' did 
 know it ben a waller in ary act," she protested. " I 
 jis 'lowed to git ole man Dawsey outer de kentry. 
 !N"or I never did hurt nary." 
 
 " Oh, that's all right, Aunt Yalley," said Alan ; 
 "that just means you're willing to sign to please 
 ns." 
 
 " An' kase missy, she done foun' out," said Aunt 
 Yalley. " Oh, Lawdy ! Missy, is I got to go 'way 
 an' leabe my mules ? " 
 
264 WE ALL. 
 
 " How are jou going to begin it, Cousin Cecil ? " 
 said Sally, avoiding an answer. " Oiiglitn't it to 
 begin like wills — * In the name of God, amen ' — so 
 as to be kind of solemn like ? I know that's the 
 way wills begin, 'cause I read a story all about a 
 bad man that burned one." 
 
 Cecil didn't think that the beginning of a will 
 was exactly like the beginning of a confession. 
 He rather inclined to "Know all men by these 
 presents." 
 
 " "Wliat presents ? " said Ally ; " they can't give 
 lis any presents." 
 
 " Oh, that's just a form — to make it sound 
 better." 
 
 " Why don't you put them both in, then, and 
 then say they did it ? " 
 
 So, after a little writing, Cecil said : 
 
 " Know all men by these presents : In the name 
 of God, amen ! We, Mrs. Yalley Lemew and Lau- 
 rence Ilarkness, were the parties who were the 
 Ku-klux and scared the negroes on the night 
 of—" 
 
 " What night was it ? " Cis broke off to ask. 
 At the same instant he glanced out of the window, 
 his attention attracted by the sound of wheels. 
 
 What he saw made him turn pale, and dart out 
 
SALLY DOES A NICE THING FOR COBBS. 265 
 
 of the room, crying, " Ally, they've all come ! " 
 Ally, too, ran to tlie window. " Hurrah ! " he 
 shouted. " Sally, look ! they've come, papa and 
 mamma, and — O thunder ! — Cobbs is there, too ! " 
 
 Certainly Cobbs was there, placidly holding the 
 horses ; but it was not to Cobbs or to the Seytons 
 that Cecil bounded. He caught a tall gentleman's 
 hand with both his own. " O dad ! O dad ! " was 
 all that he could say. 
 
 But in a moment he saw Cobbs, and shook hands 
 with an effusion that made Mr. Haimund stare. 
 
 " O Cobbs, we've got the proof ! "We can clear 
 you ! " he cried. 
 
 " Laws ! I'm all right," said Cobbs ; " the cunnel 
 and Kitchen done cl'ared me, and sent that Mitchell 
 'baout his business." 
 
 Presently they were all back in the library, 
 where they found Larry in a vigorous discussion 
 with Aunt Yalley, who was for incontinently run- 
 ning away. 
 
 At the colonel's entrance she sank helplessly 
 back to subside into morose silence. 
 
 " Come," said the colonel, " let us get this thing 
 straightened. I hear about a hundred questions. 
 First, I ought to hear — but I don't — * How is Aunt 
 Ernestine r" 
 
266 WE ALL. 
 
 " Oh, yes, papa," said Sallj, penitently, " how is 
 she?" 
 
 " She is much better. Yes, we got your tele- 
 gram. So we came home a day sooner. And your 
 father joined us for a surprise. — That's to your 
 questions, Cecil." 
 
 " And Cobbs, papa ? " said Ally, eagerly. 
 
 " Yes, Cobbs, uncle ? " said Cecil, eagerly. 
 
 " Well, I never did see the beat of them boys," 
 said Cobbs himself, radiant in the doorway. 
 
 "Why, Cobbs," said the colonel, "we found 
 Cobbs and the sheriff at the station. But, as 
 Kitchen had helped Cobbs hunt that mule all the 
 night of the Ku-klux, and as I looked out myself 
 and saw them in the moonlight bringing the mule 
 back, why we made out a very clear case of 
 
 "And Mr. Mitchell, papa?" said Sally, who 
 couldn't get over a sneaking liking for the pleasant 
 man who helped her find the boys, and called her 
 Miss Seyton — " did he feel very bad ? " 
 
 " "Well, he was a bit taken aback ; but, as he 
 stands in to get a big reward for the counterfeiters* 
 capture (he's been after them for a year, and sus- 
 pected that they were operating in this country), he 
 doesn't mind much." 
 
SALLY DOES A NICE THING FOR COBBS. 267 
 
 It was now time to tell of Aunt Valley's per- 
 formances. 
 
 Tlie children were rather scandalized wlien their 
 great tragedy was received with an outbreak of 
 merriment from the elders. Even Mrs. Seyton 
 laughed, though she said Aunt Yalley deserved to 
 be punished. 
 
 " But we can't let her get into your abominable 
 convict-camp," said Mr. Eaimund. 
 
 " Lawd bress ye, boss ! " cried Aunt Yalley. 
 
 ** Compounding a felony, you know," said the 
 colonel. 
 
 " We can't be certain she did it." said Mrs. 
 Seyton. 
 
 " And Cobbs is all right and safe, anyhow," said 
 Ally. 
 
 "And the darkeys won't be scared any more, 
 because they 'low it is Dawsey, and he's dead," said 
 Sally. 
 
 " And nobody will know that we let her off," 
 said Cecil. 
 
 " And what the mind don't know the heart 
 cayn't grieve," said Cobbs. 
 
 Well, I really don't think that Aunt Yalley de- 
 served Cobbs's intercession, after all that was come 
 and gone ; still, it was effectual. The upshot was that 
 
268 WE ALL. 
 
 the colonel gave Aunt Yalley a stern lecture on her 
 e\dl courses, including the conjure business — a lect- 
 ure to which she listened with a beautiful humility 
 — warned her to keep her own counsel about the 
 whole affair, which there was no reason to doubt she 
 would do; and eventually dismissed her. "Where- 
 upon she went home in a jubilant state of peace 
 quite unbecoming the committer of an outrage that 
 had inspired at least a dozen scorching leaders in 
 l^orthern journals. 
 
 Larry was to remain. He offered no suggestion 
 about himself ; but, when Ally turned to him and 
 said, " You're to stay here with us for a while, 
 Larry," everybody saw for the first time that Larry 
 could smile. 
 
 " I are obleeged to ye, Ally," said he. He did 
 not appear to consider that there was any other 
 person to thank. From first to last he had seen, 
 and he saw, only Ally in his little world. 
 
 Having thus "made his manners," as Aunt 
 Yalley had taught him, he sat down on the floor, 
 his back to the lounge where Ally sat, very much 
 as a dog might lie at his master's feet, and re- 
 mained in this posture, quite passive and content. 
 
 You may imagine how much there was to talk 
 about : how eagerly the fathers listened to the de- 
 
SALLY DOES A NICE THING FOR COBBS. 269 
 
 tails of the hunt ; how pale Mrs. Seyton grew when 
 Cecil, who was telling the story, came to their peep- 
 ing through the crack on the counterfeiters, and 
 how many times she kissed Sally (snuggled up to 
 her mother on the lounge) when Sally's part of the 
 adventure came to light ; and how the men laughed 
 and choked by turns over it all. 
 
 Perhaps their feelings were best expressed by the 
 colonel, who burst out, " My goodness, boys, how 
 naughty you've been, and how proud I am of you ! " 
 
 " But I want to understand," said Mrs. Seyton, 
 " how Sally ever came to suspect Aunt Yalley ? " 
 
 "Yes," said Ally, "wasn't sis cute? Cis and 
 me never mistrusted a thing." 
 
 " ]N'ot a thing," agreed Cis. 
 
 "Yes, Sally, how was it?" said Mr. Eaimund. 
 He did very well in the big arm-chair, with Cis 
 perched on one arm ; and he had his own arm 
 exactly in the right place to give his boy an occa- 
 sional hug. 
 
 "Tell dad as you told me, Sally," Cecil added. 
 
 " Wliy it was this way. Cousin John," said Sally, 
 blushing. " You see, first. Aunt Yalley said Melo- 
 deon waked her up that night when she saw Daw- 
 sey. And then, you remember, papa, when she 
 came to the store and was telling about it, why, she 
 
270 WE ALL. 
 
 said it was Abram Lincoln. So I wondered. Then, 
 you know we found the lame mule's tracks, and 
 Abram Lincoln was lame. And Cobbs thought it 
 was Mist' Henderson, because there w^as a place 
 where he was eating hackberries; but all Aunt 
 Yalley's mules eat hackberries, so I wondered some 
 more. It seemed so impossible I wouldn't speak of 
 it ; but when we got home Cobbs showed me the 
 pipe, and it was like the one I gave Aunt Yalley. 
 Besides, I didn't think she was nearly so lame as 
 she pretended — and you know, mamma, she is 
 schemy as Brer Eabbit. So, somehow, altogether 
 I — w^ondered, you know." 
 
 " I think," said Mr. Kaimund, " that Sally ought 
 to have a reward for discovering the Ku-klux, and 
 Ally for the counterfeiters." 
 
 " 'No, sir," said Ally ; " I never would have 
 gone there but for Cis. I was scared." 
 
 " Scared ! " cried Cecil ; " I wish you'd seen 
 him, dad." 
 
 The two fathers looked on with pleased eyes. 
 
 " You and I over again, John," the colonel 
 whispered, 
 
 Mrs. Seyton laid a gentle hand on the boy's 
 shoulder. " Perhaps, then, Cecil, you will be con- 
 tent to stay with us this month longer." 
 
SALLY DOES A NICE THING FOR COBBS. 271 
 
 " I shall be glad to, Aunt Emily," said Cecil. 
 
 " My dear boy ! " said she ; and kissed him. 
 
 At this moment Yance, answering an order of 
 half an hour previous, appeared grinning, with a 
 bottle of wine. 
 
 On a sign from the colonel he launched the tray 
 precariously at him. Then Yance filled the glasses 
 — and a large portion of the tray — and the colonel 
 lifted his own glass. 
 
 "This is just in time for a toast," said he. 
 " Cobbs, here's your glass, man. ' We all, East 
 KKD "West, ]^orth and South ! To our better 
 acquaintance, because that means to our better and 
 closer and dearer friendship.' " 
 
 He put his glass down, to stretch out the one 
 hand that the war had left him to Raimund, and 
 then drank the toast. 
 
 " I think so, too. Ally," said Cecil. 
 
CHAPTER XYL 
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 CoBBS was a modest man, and his reception at 
 cliurcli the next day astonished him. 
 
 The school-house where the services were held 
 was filled quite as much on account of Cobbs as the 
 Methodist circuit-rider who preached. But it was 
 a red-letter day for him also, good, struggling man, 
 for he found in the collection (taken uj) for his sti- 
 pend) not only the expected five-dollar note from 
 Colonel Seyton, but a mysterious one of twenty 
 dollars that he could only attribute to the strange 
 gentleman ; and many a grateful thought followed 
 John Raimund's unknown travels, many a prayer, 
 too, I dare say, from a little four-roomed house in 
 an Arkansas clearing. 
 
 Cobbs sat well to the front. He was always a 
 tidy man, but I will not say that to-day he had not 
 given his neat Sunday suit of brown-check an ex- 
 
CONCLUSION. 273 
 
 tra flip of tlie brush or his shaven cheeks a little 
 more of the razor. 
 
 The preacher improved his opportunities, and 
 alluded to the " end of the transgressor " (which 
 was to be expected), but that Cobbs should figure 
 as "the righteous" was an embarrassing surprise. 
 Redder and redder he grew, while every eye in the 
 church (except the babies') was fixed upon him, and 
 divers devout sisters kept up a pious fusillade of 
 ejaculations, such as — " Bless God ! " " Amen, 
 brother!" "That's so!" "He's a good man!" 
 " Oh, save ! " and the like, until Cobbs would have 
 welcomed an earthquake. 
 
 The widow on Willow, who was present with six 
 of the poor man's blessings, all under ten, and who 
 had a noble, strong voice, was a successful rival to 
 Mrs. Kitchen in shouting or groaning approval; 
 and so uplifted was Brother Warren (the preacher) 
 by his hearers' sympathy that his eloquence waxed 
 warm and warmer, and his blows on the teach- 
 er's desk (which served for a pulpit) stout and 
 stouter, with the result of quite electrifying a 
 usually stolid congregation, besides tipping over 
 the ink-bottle inside the desk — indeed, I incline 
 myself to date from this sermon Brother Warren's 
 rapidly increasing reputation as an orator. He 
 
274: WE ALL. 
 
 told his wife that he was fairly surprised at him- 
 self. 
 
 Certainly he surprised Cobbs. Mr. Eaimund 
 was just behind Cobbs. He had subscribed some 
 money to the building of this very school-house, 
 which was on the border of the Seytons' plantation, 
 and therefore he looked about him with some curi- 
 osity. 
 
 It was a substantial building of wood and neatly 
 painted, neatly furnished also with desks, black- 
 boards, and maps, in the usual school fashion. 
 
 The only especial decoration for religious serv- 
 ices was a pile of Moody-and-Sankey hymn-books 
 and a Bible on the desk, and two inscriptions in 
 fat, bright, black letters on the white front wall, 
 one of which read, " The Loed will Provide," 
 and the other " Please do not spit on the 
 Floor." 
 
 Between these inscriptions and the sermon John 
 Raimund was at some effort to keep a proper com- 
 posure. 
 
 "You did well, Cis," he said, afterward; "I 
 didn't see the ghost of a smile about you." 
 
 "Well, dad," said Cis, slowly, "I was amused 
 at the signs; but I've seen them before, and then 
 to-day, somehow, I felt solemn." 
 
CONCLUSION. 275 
 
 His father pressed his arm, but said nothing ; he 
 understood. 
 
 Already that morning they had had a long talk, 
 and Cecil was likely to remember while he lived 
 some things that his father had told him about the 
 rare and faithful friendship of the Seytons, and 
 some things that he had said of the duties of every 
 man to other men — not as his friends nor liis 
 equals nor his possible helpers, but simply as men 
 born into the same world with him to live, and suf- 
 fer, and die. 
 
 Cis had learned much in the last two weeks. 
 Learning is always a sobering business, and to learn 
 so quickly as Cis had done is likely to give the 
 brains a dizzy feeling. Cis was very quiet all that 
 Sunday. 
 
 Wlien his father spoke to him, they were stand- 
 ing a little apart, waiting for the Seytons (who had 
 to greet the whole neighborhood), therefore they 
 had a full view of Cobbs's ovation. Everybody 
 spoke to him; everybody shook hands with him. 
 As a rule, the Arkansas " renters " and farmers are 
 an unexpressive, irresponsive people, but they were 
 stirred out of their apathy now. Dawsey's death 
 had removed the secret dread and open irritations 
 of years. 
 
276 WE -^l^^' 
 
 HaK a dozen men in the congregation were 
 debtors of Dawsey, who felt a weight lifted off 
 their shoulders. Kitchen and Eose and the others 
 of the party who captured the counterfeiters stood 
 beside Cobbs and were equal heroes of the occa- 
 sion. 
 
 "What I felt sorriest for Cobbs fur in the 
 whole blamed business," said Kitchen, who himself 
 had shot Dawsey, "is that he cudn't see that ar 
 purty little fight. That did ben rilin' I " 
 
 " Yes, sir," said Eose, sympathetically, " but the 
 cunnel given him the gyardin' of his children, an' I 
 say he done jes' right." 
 
 " Well," said Cobbs, " I did squirm consid'able 
 inside ; but I cudn't think er no other way." 
 
 " Ef that ar Dawsey had got off an' seen em," 
 said one man " 'twould a ben plumb hke his mean- 
 ness to a' shot a shoot at 'em, specially Ally. I 
 heerd him goin' on, at the gypsies' camp, baout how 
 he'd ^x Ally 'cause he tripped him up. Yes, sir^ 
 Cobbs done right." 
 
 There was one man in the congregration who 
 would have hurried past. It was the doctor. Him, 
 however, Cobbs hailed in a friendly way, as one 
 bearing no malice. 
 
 " Say, doctor, if ye got time, run 'round to my 
 
CONCLUSION. 277 
 
 house tliis evenin' ; like ye to look at Larry's ankle. 
 He's a-stoppin' with me, now." 
 
 The doctor hesitated, but he was man enough to 
 say: 
 
 " I expect you know I've been thinking rather 
 hard things of you Mr. Cobbs ? " 
 
 " And sayin' of 'em tew," growled Eose. 
 
 "Laws! that don't caount," said Cobbs, cheer- 
 fully; "no harm intended an' no great done, like 
 the man said when he shot the darkey stealin' his 
 chickens, 'lowin' it ben a mad dog. Ef you had a 
 knowed me fur years and then blamed sich a 
 trick on me, 'twud a' ben another thing. But as 
 'tis, I ain't holdin' no hard feelin', an' hope you 
 ain't." 
 
 " 'No, sir — no, indeed, sir," said the doctor. So 
 he, too, shook hands. 
 
 But now the Seytons were ready and the Seyton 
 party drove homeward. 
 
 "Did I tell you what Cis wants me to do for 
 Cobbs ? " Mr. Kaimund, who sat in the front leaned 
 backward to say to Mrs. Seyton — Cis and Ally were 
 mounted escort, riding ahead — " he's keen to have 
 me send for Cobbs's brother-in-law so he can get 
 his mother back. He says he wants to do some- 
 thing nice for Cobbs." 
 
278 WE ALL. 
 
 "I thiiik: he has done something nice for 
 Cobbs," said Mrs. Seyton, " according to Kitchen 
 and Rose. He made a great speech at the store for 
 Cobbs, they say ; and Cobbs is brimming over with 
 gratitude." 
 
 " Cobbs is a faithful soul," Mr. Eaimund said, 
 musingly. " I think I shall have to let Cis have his 
 way. I remember old Mrs. Cobbs used to be good 
 to me." 
 
 " That will make one thing easy, Larry's going 
 to Cobbs's." 
 
 " You still think that will be best ? " 
 
 " Yes, John, he will have a good home, and 
 Cobbs will make a man of him. Cobbs can't talk 
 good grammar, but he can keep the commandments 
 better than most." 
 
 " He can, for a fact," chimed in the colonel. 
 " He is brave, faithful, and honest. Ally isn't far 
 out in his admiration for Cobbs. But, speaking of 
 Cobbs, reminds me I have just had a note from 
 Mitchell. He acknowledges the receipt of the 
 money I paid him for his services, and warns me 
 that there is some mystery about the Ku-klux busi- 
 ness. He doesn't believe, now, that Dawsey had 
 anything to do with it. And he sends his regards 
 to Sally." 
 
CONCLUSION. 279 
 
 " Does he offer to come up and clear it np for 
 you ? " said Mr. Eaimnnd. 
 
 " Oil, no, sir, lie is too important a man for that ; 
 he only came np in the first place because he was 
 on Dawsey's track in the counterfeiting busi- 
 ness." 
 
 " Well, /shall pay Miss Sally five hundred dol- 
 lars, since you won't sacrifice Larry or Aunt Yalley 
 to the manes of justice and get that much from the 
 State." 
 
 This, indeed, was what was done. The secret 
 was kept. But Aunt Yalley has been more active 
 since that time in her legitimate sphere of root 
 and herb doctor, and very much less active in con- 
 juring. 
 
 Another token of reform may be that she is 
 talking of sending for Uncle Hobson. 
 
 Cecil spent all winter with his cousins, and he 
 has persuaded his mother to invite the Seytons to 
 Chicago. 
 
 " And remember," says Cecil, often in his letters 
 to Ally, " wherever we are, we are always going to 
 be friends and brothers, and when we grow up we 
 are going to be partners." 
 
 Meanwhile, it is like Cis, who is fond of trinkets 
 and flummery, to wear a fob-seal, on which is en- 
 
280 
 
 WE ALL. 
 
 graved a wild boar's head and tlie letters " W. A." 
 The head is a reminiscence of another hog-fight, 
 where Cis did kill the boar, and the letters stand 
 for WE ALL. 
 
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