"Please, Marster!"

"Now both together, and a little louder!"

"_Please, Marster_," came the united chorus.

"Now what kind of a dog did I say you are?"

"The kind as comes when his marster calls."

"Both together--the under dog seems to have too much cover, like his mouth might be full of cotton."

They repeated it louder.

"A common--stump-tailed--cur-dog?"

"Yessir."

"Say it."

"A common--stump-tailed--cur-dog--Marster!"

"A pair of them."

"A pair of 'em."

"No, the whole thing--all together--'we--are--a--pair!'"

"Yes--Marster." They repeated it in chorus.

"With apologies to the dogs----"

"Apologies to the dogs----"

"And why does your master honour the kennel with his presence to-day?"

"He hit a n.i.g.g.e.r on the head so hard that he strained the n.i.g.g.e.r's ankle, and he's restin' from his labours."

"That's right, Towser. If I had you and Tige a few hours every day I could make good squirrel-dogs out of you."

There was a pause. Phil looked up and smiled.

"What does it sound like?" asked the Captain, with a shade of doubt in his voice.

"Sounds to me like a Sunday-school teacher taking his cla.s.s through a new catechism."

The Captain fumbled hurriedly for his keys.

"There's something wrong in there."

He opened the door and sprang in.

Ben Cameron was sitting on top of the two toughs, knocking their heads together as they repeated each chorus.

"Walk in, gentlemen. The show is going on now--the animals are doing beautifully," said Ben.

The Captain muttered an oath. Phil suddenly grasped him by the throat, hurled him against the wall, and s.n.a.t.c.hed the keys from his hand.

"Now open your mouth, you white-livered cur, and inside of twenty-four hours I'll have you behind the bars. I have all the evidence I need. I'm an ex-officer of the United States Army, of the fighting corps--not the vulture division. This is my friend. Accompany us to the street and strike your charges from the record."

The coward did as he was ordered, and Ben hurried back to Piedmont with a friend toward whom he began to feel closer than a brother.

When Elsie heard the full story of the outrage, she bore herself toward Ben with unusual tenderness, and yet he knew that the event had driven their lives farther apart. He felt instinctively the cold silent eye of her father, and his pride stiffened under it. The girl had never considered the possibility of a marriage without her father's blessing.

Ben Cameron was too proud to ask it. He began to fear that the differences between her father and his people reached to the deepest sources of life.

Phil found himself a hero at the Cameron House. Margaret said little, but her bearing spoke in deeper language than words. He felt it would be mean to take advantage of her grat.i.tude.

But he was quick to respond to the motherly tenderness of Mrs. Cameron. In the groups of neighbours who gathered in the evenings to discuss with the doctor the hopes, fears, and sorrows of the people, Phil was a charmed listener to the most brilliant conversations he had ever heard. It seemed the normal expression of their lives. He had never before seen people come together to talk to one another after this fashion. More and more the simplicity, dignity, patience, courtesy, and sympathy of these people in their bearing toward one another impressed him. More and more he grew to like them.

Marion went out of her way to express her open admiration for Phil and tease him about Margaret. The Rev. Hugh McAlpin was monopolizing her on the Wednesday following his return from Columbia and Phil sought Marion for sympathy.

"What will you give me if I tease you about Margaret right before her?"

she asked.

He blushed furiously.

"Don't you dare such a thing on peril of your life!"

"You know you like to be teased about her," she cried, her blue eyes dancing with fun.

"With such a pretty little friend to do the teasing all by ourselves, perhaps----"

"You'll never get her unless you have more s.p.u.n.k."

"Then I'll find consolation with you."

"No, I mean to marry young."

"And your ideal of life?"

"To fill the world with flowers, laughter, and music--especially my own home--and never do a thing I can make my husband do for me! How do you like it?"

"I think it very sweet," Phil answered soberly.

At noon on the following Friday, the Piedmont _Eagle_ appeared with an editorial signed by Dr. Cameron, denouncing in the fine language of the old school the arrest of Ben as "despotism and the usurpation of authority."

At three o'clock, Captain Gilbert, in command of the troops stationed in the village, marched a squad of soldiers to the newspaper office. One of them carried a sledge-hammer. In ten minutes he demolished the office, heaped the type and their splintered cases on top of the battered press in the middle of the street, and set fire to the pile.

On the courthouse door he nailed this proclamation: