The lad rose to his feet as he asked this and the man slowly followed his example. Then laying his hand on heart he bowed, saying:

"I cayn't sell Billy. I give you my word. But, a southern planter is never beyond the power, sir, to bestow a gift. Kindly convey said Billy to Miss Calvert with the compliments of Colonel Judah Dillingham of T. Yonder are the bars. They are down. They are always down. So are my fortunes. Billy, old friend, farewell."

This strange gentleman then solemnly reseated himself and again picked up his book. A deeper gloom than ever had settled upon him and a sigh that was almost a sob shook him from head to foot.

Billy, also, slowly and stiffly rose, regarded the reader with what seemed like grieved amazement and dismally brayed. There was an old harness upon him, half-leather, half-rope, with a few wisps of corn-husk, and without delay Jim laid his hand on the bit-ring and started away.

"Of course, sir, we will pay for the mule. My folks wouldn't, I mean couldn't, accept such a gift from a stranger. Our house-boat is tied up at the little wharf down yonder and we'll likely be there for awhile. I'll come back soon and tell what they say."

Colonel Dillingham made no motion as if he heard and James was too afraid he would repent of the bargain to tarry. But Billy wasn't easy to lead. He followed peaceably enough as far as the designated bars, even stepped over the fallen rails into the gra.s.sy fields beyond. But there he firmly planted his fore-feet and refused to go further.

Left behind and scarcely believing his own eyes, Ephraim now respectfully inquired, with pride at having guessed the man's t.i.tle:

"How much dese yeah millyouns wuth, Cunnel?"

The question was ignored although the gentleman seemed listening to something. It was the dispute now waging in the field beyond, where Jim was trying to induce Billy to move and the other lads were offering suggestions in the case. At last something akin to a smile stole over the farmer's grim features and he roughly ordered:

"Shut up, you n.i.g.g.e.r! Huh! Just as I thought. I couldn't sell Billy and Billy won't be given. Eh? what? Price of melons? You black idiot, do you reckon a gentleman who can afford to give away a mule's goin'

to take money for a few trumpery water-melons? Go on away. Go to the packin'-house yonder and find a sack. Fill it. Take the whole field full. Eat enough to kill yourself. I wish you would!"

Far from being offended by this outbreak, Ephraim murmured:

"Yes, suh, t'ank yo', suh," and hobbled over the uneven ground toward the whitewashed building in the middle of the patch. Some more thrifty predecessor had built this for the storing and packing of produce, but under the present owner's management it was fast tumbling to ruin. But neither did this fact surprise Ephy, nor hinder him from choosing the largest sack from a pile on the floor. With this in hand he hurried back to the goodly heap of melons he had made ready and hastily loaded them into the sack.

Not till then did he consider how he was to get that heavy load to the Water Lily. Standing up, he took off his hat, scratched his wool, hefted the melons, and finally chuckled in delight.

"'Mo' ways 'an one to skin a cat'! Down-hill's easier 'an up!"

With that he began to drag the sack toward the fence and, having reached it, took out its contents and tossed them over the fence. When the bag was empty he rolled and tucked it into the back of his coat, then climbed back to the field outside. The controversy with Billy was still going l.u.s.tily on, but Ephy had more serious work on hand than that. Such a heap of luscious melons meant many a day's feast, if they could be stored in some safe, cool place.

"h.e.l.lo! Look at old Eph!" suddenly cried Gerald, happening to turn about.

"Huh! Now ain't that clever? Wonder I never thought o' that myself!"

cried the Colonel, with some animation. "Clever enough for a white man. Billy, you'd ought have conjured that yourself. But that's always the way. I cayn't think a thought but somebody else has thought it before me. I cayn't never get ahead of the tail end of things. Oh!

hum!"

The Colonel might be sighing but the three lads were laughing heartily enough to drown the sighs, for there was the old negro starting one after another of the great melons a-roll down the gentle slope, to bring up on the gra.s.sy bank at the very side of the Water Lily. If a few fell over into the water they could easily be fished out, reasoned Ephraim, proud of his own ingenuity.

But the group beside the bars didn't watch to see the outcome of that matter, nor Ephraim's reception. They were too busy expostulating with Billy, and lavishing endearments upon him.

"'Stubborn as a mule'," quoted Melvin, losing patience.

"Or fate," responded the Colonel, drearily.

"Please, sir, won't you try to make him go?" pleaded Gerald. "I think if you just started him on the right way he'd keep at it."

"Billy is--Billy!" said the farmer. He was really greatly interested.

Nothing so agreeable as this had happened in his monotonous life since he could remember. Here were three lads, as full of life as he had been once, jolly, hearty, with a will to do and conquer everything; and--here was Billy. A great, awkward, inert ma.s.s of bone and muscle, merely, calmly holding these clever youngsters at bay.

"Can he be ridden?" demanded Jim, at length.

"He might. Try;" said the man, in heart-broken accents.

Jim tried. Melvin tried. Gerald tried. With every attempt to cross his back the animal threw up his heels and calmly shook the intruder off.

The Colonel folded his arms and sorrowfully regarded these various attempts and failures; then dolefully remarked:

"It seems I cayn't even _give_ Billy away. Ah! hum."

Jim lost his temper.

"Well, sir, we'll call it off and bid you good night. Somebody will come back to pay you for the melons."

As he turned away in a huff his mates started to follow him; but Melvin was surprised by a touch on his shoulder and looked up to see the Colonel beside him.

"Young man, you look as if you came of gentle stock. Billy was brought up by a gentlewoman, my daughter. She forsook him and me for another man. I mean she got married. That's why Billy and I live alone now, except for the n.i.g.g.e.rs. They's a right and a wrong way to everything.

_This_--is the right way with Billy. Billy, lie down."

For an instant the animal hesitated as if suspecting some treachery in this familiar command; then he doubled himself together like a jack-knife, or till he was but a mound of mule-flesh upon the gra.s.s.

"She taught him. She rode this way. Billy, get up."

This strange man had seated himself sidewise upon the mule's back, leisurely freeing his feet from the loose-hanging harness and balancing himself easily as the animal got up. Then still sitting sidewise he ordered:

"Billy, proceed."

At once Billy "proceeded" at an even and decorous pace, while the lads walked alongside, vastly entertained by this unusual rider and his mount. He seemed to think a further explanation necessary, for as they neared the bottom of the slope he remarked:

"Learned that in Egypt. Camel riding. She came home and taught him."

Then they came to the edge of the bank and paused in surprise. Instead of the gay welcome they had expected, there was Chloe walking frantically up and down, hugging a still dripping little figure to her breast and refusing to yield it to the outstretched arms of poor old Ephraim, who stood in the midst of his melons, a woe-begone, miserable creature, wholly unlike his jubilant self of a brief while before.

"What's--happened?" asked Jim, running to Chloe's side.

"'Tis a jedgmen'! A jedgmen'! Oh! de misery--de misery!" she wailed, breaking away from him and wildly running to and fro again, in the fierce excitement of her race.

Yet there upon the roof of the cabin, cheerily looking out from his "bridge" was Cap'n Jack. He was waving his crutches in jovial welcome and trying to cover Chloe's wailing by his exultant:

"I fished him out with a boat-hook! With--a--boat-hook, d'ye hear?"

CHAPTER VII.

VISITORS.

Attracted by the wild flowers growing in the fields around the cove where the Water Lily was moored, the four girls had left the boat a little while before the melon seekers had done so.