"Jonas," said Mr. Sanders, "did you see anything? Didn't you notice somethin' in the corner--it mought 'a' been nothin' an' then, ag'in, it mought 'a' been the biggest thing mortual eyes ever gazed on--didn't you see somethin' like a shadder?"

Old Jonas's reply was very prompt. He smacked his lips as though he tasted something nice. "No, Sanders! I didn't see anything, and what's more, I didn't expect to see anything."

Mr. Sanders opened wide his eyes and stared at old Jonas as hard as if he had been some rare kind of curiosity placed on exhibition for the first time.

"I hope you'll know me next time you see me!" exclaimed old Jonas, somewhat snappishly. "Do you want me to tell you I saw something, when in fact I saw nothing?"

Mr. Sanders pa.s.sed his hand over his face, as though the gesture would better enable him to contemplate the sorrowful condition of his companion. "Jonas," he said with a sigh as heavy as if he had been a sleepy cow in a big pasture, "ef you'd 'a' had your two eyes put out a quarter of an hour arter you were born, you couldn't talk any more like a blind man than you did jest then. You said you seed nothin,'an' a blind man could say the same, day or night."

The reply that old Jonas made was characteristic; he pulled his hat a little further down over his ears, and said nothing. Fortunately for him perhaps, there was a timely diversion at that moment. Some one raised the big knocker on the door and let it fall again. Such a bang had not been heard in the house for many a long day; it set the frightened echoes flying. Adelaide heard them, and they must have been following her pretty close, for she ran into the sitting-room, crying:

"Good gracious, Bishop! Gracious goodness, Nunky-Punky! what was that?

Did some one shoot at my Boogerman? He's already been kill'ded once, and he ought not to be kill'ded again."

Neither of the men could give her any satisfaction, and so she ran into the parlour and peeped through the blinds of a window that commanded a view of the piazza. Almost instantly she came running back again, pretended amazement in her eyes.

"I know who it is!" she said in a tragic whisper. "It's my wild Injun-rubber man, and, oh, my goodness! he looks vigorous and vexified!

Where shall we hide?"

As a matter of fact, it had been such a long time since the knocker had been used that a big fat spider had spun a silken arbour there. Old Jonas hesitated so long about responding that Lucindy, who had heard the noise in the kitchen, put her head in the back door, with the query:

"Did any er you-all turn loose a gun in dar? Seem like I sho heern a gun go off!"

Lucindy's voice seemed to have a rea.s.suring effect on old Jonas, for he brushed some dust specks from the front of his coat, straightened himself, and started for the front door which was the centre of the disturbance. As he made his way along the hall, Mr. Sanders, in obedience to an imperious gesture from Adelaide, disappeared behind a huge rocker, while the child concealed herself behind the door. Mr.

Sanders took off his hat, whipped out his red silk handkerchief, threw it over his head and tied it under his chin. Adelaide had a partial view of her Bishop, and the sight she saw seemed to be too much for her: she gave a gasp, and sank to the floor as though in great pain.

They heard old Jonas urging the visitor to come in, while the other protested that he only wanted to say a word to Mr. Sanders, which could be said at the door as well, if not better, than anywhere else. Old Jonas called Mr. Sanders, but no one answered him. Then Adelaide and her Bishop heard old Jonas and the visitor coming along the hallway. "I don't want to trouble you at all, Mr. Whipple. They told me at the tavern that Mr. Sanders was here, and I just wanted to put a flea in his ear about a little matter."

"Well, just come right in," responded old Jonas, cordially. "Sanders!"

he called.

Adelaide ventured to glance at Mr. Sanders again, and this time she could not restrain herself. She gave utterance to an ear-piercing shriek, which was more than sustained by a blood-curdling yell from Mr.

Sanders!

PART IV

And now, good comrades, what shall it be, A dungeon cell or a gallows tree?

--_Varner's Lynching Songs._

Never, since the day you were born, have you seen such a jump, or heard such a grunt as old Jonas gave. You would have thought the Ku-Klux had him, for this was the year Eighteen-Hundred-and-under-the-Bushes, with old Raw-Head-and-b.l.o.o.d.y-Bones keeping his green eyes wide open. For one brief and fleeting moment, old Jonas's whole body seemed to be wrenched out of socket, as Mr. Sanders said afterward; his hat fell off, and it was as much as he could do to keep his feet. He scowled, and then he tried to smile, but the scowl felt very much at home on his wrinkled countenance, and refused to be ousted by a feeble smile.

Even the visitor, whose name was Augustus Tidwell, was startled, and he showed it in his face, but he recovered much sooner than old Jonas did.

He was one of the most prominent lawyers in that whole section, where prominent lawyers were plentiful. He was dignified, because he had to live up to his position, but all his dignity was dispersed by Adelaide and her Bishop. Adelaide called Mr. Tidwell her Injun-rubber because he wore his hair long, so that it fell in glistening waves over his coat collar. This gave him a very romantic appearance, and when engaged in the practice of law he always made the most of it; he could tousel his hair and look the picture of rage; he could push it straight back from his wide forehead, and seem to stand for innocence and virtue; and he could ruffle it up on one side, and tell juries how they should find in cases where the interests of his clients were concerned.

But dignity and a romantic appearance couldn't stand before Adelaide and her Bishop. Mr. Sanders, with the red silk handkerchief thrown over his head and tied under his chin, was a sight you would have gone far to see. He had such marvellous control of his features that, one moment he had the appearance of an overgrown baby, and the next, he was the living image of an old country granny who had come to town to swap a pound of snow-white b.u.t.ter for a hank or two of spun-truck. The fact is, Adelaide was compelled to roll on the floor and kick, so acute were the paroxysms of laughter. Mr. Sanders laughed, too, but when Adelaide glanced at him he would wipe the smile from his face and look as solemn as a real truly-ann Bishop; and this was worse than laughing, for Adelaide would be compelled to roll over the floor again.

Old Jonas didn't have any of the pains that come from laughter. At first he was frightened nearly to death at the manifestations for which Adelaide and her Bishop were responsible; then the reaction was toward hot anger, which finally developed into a feeling of impatient disgust at the spectacle which Mr. Sanders presented.

"Sanders," he said, sharply and earnestly, "if I didn't know you I'd be willing to swear you had gone crazy! Why, who under the blue sky ever heard of a grown man indulging in such antics and capers! It's simply scandalous, that's what it is."

"It is that-away!" blandly remarked Mr. Sanders. "An' more especially it's a scandal when me an' that child thar can't have five minnits' fun all by ourselves but what you come a-stickin' your head in the door, an'

try for to turn a somerset wi'out liftin' your feet off'n the floor! I leave it to Gus Tidwell thar ef anybody in this house has cut up more capers than what you have. I wish you could 'a' seed yourself when you was flinging your hat on the floor, an' tryin' for to keep your feet in a slanchindic'lar position, an' workin' an' twistin' your mouth like you was tryin' for to git it on top of your head--ef you could 'a' seed all that you'd agree wi' me that thar wa'n't no room in this house for youth an' innocence."

Adelaide took advantage of the conversation to run out of the room to see if Cally-Lou had been frightened by all the noise; and presently the men heard her relating all the circ.u.mstances to her brown Ariel, and laughing almost as heartily at her own recital as she laughed when Mr.

Sanders winked at her with the red handkerchief on his head.

"Who is she talking to?" Lawyer Tidwell inquired.

"Just talking to herself," responded old Jonas, with unnecessary tartness.

"Don't you nigh believe it, Gus," said Mr. Sanders. "She ain't twins, an' she's talkin' to some un that she can see an' we can't. Why, ef thar wa'n't nothin' thar, she'd be the finest play-actor that ever played in a county courthouse."

"She is certainly a wonderful child," said the lawyer. "Lucindy brought her to see my wife the other day, and I happened to be at home. I never enjoyed anybody's company so well on a short acquaintance as I did hers.

My wife is daft about her, and she believes with you, Mr. Sanders, that the Cally-Lou she talks about so much is really her companion."

"Why, tooby sh.o.r.e, Gus. Children see an' know a heap things that they don' say nothin' about for fear they'll be laughed at. All you've got to do to see Cally-Lou is turn your head quick enough. I ain't limber enough myself, an' I reckon I never will be any more."

"Speaking of Lucindy, Mr. Sanders, I wanted to see you about some little business of hers, and it's business that she doesn't know anything about. Moreover, she wouldn't help matters much if she knew about it. I don't know how Mr. Whipple feels, but I know very well how you and I feel. You don't need to be told that nearly all the negroes have fallen out of sympathy with the whites; but there are a few we can still trust and have a genuine friendship for--and Lucindy is one of them. Now, I was sitting in my office to-day reading, when all of a sudden I heard someone talking in low tones. I didn't hear everything that was said, but I heard enough to learn that Lucindy's son Randall is somewhere in the county."

"He sh.o.r.ely is for a fact!" exclaimed Mr. Sanders. "Right in the state, county, town, an' deestrick aforesaid. Go on, Gus."

"Well you know, he's the boy that came within an ace of putting old Tuttle out of business in 1864. But now old Tuttle is the Radical Ordinary, elected by the n.i.g.g.e.rs, and he is afraid to bring suit against Randall in the Superior Court. But he wants the boy put out of business if it can be done without mixing his name with the affair. I couldn't overhear all that was said, but I heard enough to know that old Tuttle intends to have Randall arrested on a charge of a.s.sault with intent to murder, and run him out of the county. Now, I wouldn't care a snap of my finger if it wasn't for the fact that Randall is Lucindy's son, and he must be taken care of. I don't know how you gentlemen feel about it, but that's the way I feel."

"Ef it'll do you any good to know," Mr. Sanders remarked, "me an' Jonas feel exactly the same way; an' what's more, we don't intend that Randall shall be run off. He's right here on this lot, an' here he's a-gwine to stay, ef I have any sesso in the matter. I'll pay his board, Jonas, ef that'll suit you, bekaze I've got a crow to pick wi' ol' Tuttle, an'

when I git it picked he'll have more loose feathers than he kin walk off wi'. Jest mark that down."

"Pish-tush!" exclaimed old Jonas, smacking his thin lips, and frowning.

He rose and went to the back door, and presently the others heard him calling Randall, who seemed to be somewhat slow in answering--so much so that Lucindy's voice was added to his.

"Randall!" she cried, "what in de name er goodness you doin' in dar?

Don't you hear Mr. Whipple hollain' atter you? Look like you des ez triflin' now as what you wuz when you loped off!"

Randall replied after a while, and old Jonas's command was, "Come here, you no account scoundrel, and black my shoes!"

"Why, Jonas," said Mr. Sanders, when the former had returned to the room, "ain't you afraid you'll take cold? You ain't had your shoes blacked sence the war!"

The only reply old Jonas made to that was in the shape of a scowl.

Randall came running with a puzzled expression on his face. He dropped his hat somewhere outside the door, and went in.

"They tell me," said old Jonas, somewhat curtly, "that you are studying to be a bishop."

"That's what I laid off in my mind, suh. It come to me when I hear um prayin' an' singin'; I allow to myself, I did, that ef it's all ez purty an' ez nice ez that, they wa'n't nothin' gwine to keep me from bein' a minister when the time got ripe. That's what I said to myself, suh."

"Well," remarked Mr. Sanders, rea.s.suringly, "you've already got to be a Boogerman, an' I reckon that's long step forrerd."