dah's fiah en she ain' afeahd, en dah's watah en she ain' afeahd. It's de thing whut eat de ha'at outen de breas'--dat whut she afeahd of!"

"Come, Anthony," said Judge Chalmers, laying his hand on the old man's shoulder. "That's much too mournful! Give her something nice to top off with, at least!"

But Anthony paid no heed, continuing his rocking and his muttering.

"Gr'et trouble. Dah's fiah en she ain' afeahd, en dah's watah en she ain' afeahd. En Ah sees yo' gwine ter him, honey. Ah heah's de co'ot-house clock a-strikin' in de night--en yo' gwine. Don' wait, don'

wait, li'l mistis, er de trouble-cloud gwine kyah him erway f'om yo'....

When de clock strike thuhteen--when de clock strike thuhteen--"

The droning voice ceased. The gaunt form became rigid. Then he started and turned his eyes slowly about him, a vague look of anxiety on his face. For a moment no one moved. When he spoke again it was once more in his gentle quavering voice:

"Watah? Yas, Mars', good watah. He'p yo'se'f."

The judge set a dollar bill on the step and weighted it with a stone, as the rest remounted. "Well, good-by, Anthony," he said. "We're mightily obliged."

He sprang into the saddle and the quartette cantered away. "My experiment wasn't a great success, I'm afraid, Shirley," he said ruefully.

"Oh, I think it was splendid!" cried Nancy. "Do you suppose he really believes those spooky things? I declare, at the time I almost did myself. What an odd idea--'when the clock strikes thirteen,' which, of course, it never does."

"Don't mind, Shirley," bantered Lusk. "When you see all 'dem troubles'

coming, sound the alarm and we'll fly in a body to your rescue."

They let their horses out for a pounding gallop which pulled down suddenly at a m.u.f.fled shriek from Betty Page, as her horse went into the air at sight of an automobile by the roadside.

"Now, whose under the canopy is that?" exclaimed Lusk.

"It's stalled," said Shirley. "I pa.s.sed here this afternoon when the owner was trying to start it, and I sent Unc' Jefferson as first aid to the injured."

"I wonder who he can be," said Nancy. "I've never seen that car before."

"Why," said Betty gaily, "_Ah_ know! It's Mad Anthony's trouble-man, of course, come for Shirley."

CHAPTER IX

UNCLE JEFFERSON

A red rose, while ever a thing of beauty, is not invariably a joy forever. The white bulldog, as he plodded along the sunny highway, was sunk in depression. Being trammeled by the limitations of a canine horizon, he could not understand the whims of Adorable Ones met by the way, who seemed so glad to see him that they threw both arms about him, and then tied to his neck irksome colored weeds that p.r.i.c.kled and scratched and would not be dislodged. Lacking a basis of painful comparison, since he had never had a tin can tied to his tail, he accepted it as condign punishment and was puzzledly wretched. So it was a chastened and shamed Chum who at length wriggled stealthily into the seat of the stranded automobile beside his master and thrust a dirty pink nose into his palm.

John Valiant lifted his hand to stroke the shapely head, then drew it back with an exclamation. A thorn had p.r.i.c.ked his thumb. He looked down and saw the draggled flower thrust through the twist of gra.s.s. "Oh, pup of wonders!" he exclaimed. "Where did you get that rose?"

Chum sat up and wagged his tail, for his master's tone, instead of ridicule, held a dawning delight. Perhaps the thing had not been intended as a disgrace after all! As the careful hand drew the misused blossom tenderly from its tether, he barked joyously with recovered spirits.

With the first sight of the decoration Valiant had had a sudden memory of a splotch of vivid red against the belted gray-blue of a gown. He grinned appreciatively. "And I _warned_ her," he chuckled. "Told her not to be afraid!" He dusted the blossom painstakingly with his handkerchief and held it to his face--a live brilliant thing, breathing musk-odors of the mid-moon of paradise.

A long time he sat, while the dog dozed and yawned on the shiny cushion beside him. Gradually the clover-breeze fainted and the lengthening shadows dipped their fingers into indigo. On the far amethystine peaks of the Blue Ridge leaned milky-breasted clouds through which the sun sifted in wide bars. A blackbird began to flute from some near-by tree and across the low stone wall he heard a feathery whir. Of a sudden Chum sat up and barked in earnest.

Turning his head, his master saw approaching a dilapidated hack with side-lanterns like great goggles and decrepit and palsied curtains. It was drawn by a lean mustard-tinted mule, and on its front seat sat a colored man of uncertain age, whose hunched vertebrae and outward-crooked arms gave him a curious expression of replete and bulbous inquiry.

Abreast of the car he removed a moth-eaten cap.

"Evenin', suh," he said,--"evenin', evenin'."

"Howdy do," returned the other amiably.

"Ah reck'n yo'-all done had er breck-down wid dat machine-thing dar.

Spec' er graveyahd rabbit done cross yo' pahf. Yo' been hyuh 'bout er hour, ain' yo'?"

"Nearer three," said Valiant cheerfully, "but the view's worth it."

A hoa.r.s.e t.i.tter came from the conveyance, which gave forth sundry creakings of leather. "Huyh! Huyh! Dat's so, suh. Dat's so! Hm-m. Reck'n Ah'll be gittin' erlong back." He clucked to the mule and proceeded to turn the vehicle round.

"Hold on," cried John Valiant. "I thought you were bound in the other direction."

"No, _suh_. Ah'm gwine back whah I come f'om. Ah jus' druv out hyuh 'case Miss Shirley done met me, en she say, 'Unc' Jeffe'son, yo' go 'treckly out de Red Road, 'case er gemman done got stalled-ed.'"

"Oh--Miss Shirley. She told you, did she? What did you say her first name was?"

"_Dat's_ huh fus' name, Miss Shirley. Yas, _suh_! Miss Shirley done said f' me ter come en git de gemman whut--whut kinder dawg is yo' got dar?"

"It's a bulldog. Can you give me a lift? I've got that small trunk and--"

"Dat's a right fine dawg. Miss Shirley she moughty fond ob dawgs, too."

"Fond of dogs, is she?" said Valiant. "I might have known it. It was nice of her to send you here, Uncle Jefferson. You can take me and my traps, I suppose?"

"'Pens on whah yo' gwineter," answered Uncle Jefferson sapiently.

"I'm going to Damory Court."

A kind of shocked surprise that was almost stupefaction spread over the other's face, like oil over a pool. "Dam'ry Co'ot! Dat's de old Valiant place. Ain' n.o.body lives _dar_. Ah reck'n ain' n.o.body live dar fer mos'

er hun'erd yeahs!"

"The old house has a great surprise coming to it," said Valiant gravely.

"Henceforth some one is going to occupy it. How far is it away?"

"Measurin' by de c.o.o.nskin en th'owin' in de tail, et's erbout two mile.

Ain' gwineter live dar yo'se'f, suh, is yo'?"

"I am for the present," was the crisp answer.

Uncle Jefferson stared at him a moment with his mouth open. Then e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.n.g. under his breath, "Fo' de _Lawd_! Whut folks gwineter say ter dat!" he shambled to the rear of the motor and began to unship the steamer-trunk.

"By the way,"--John Valiant paused, with the portmanteau in his hands,--"what do you ask for the job?"

The owner of the hack scratched his grizzled head. "Ah gen'ly chahges er quahtah er trunk f'om de deepo' less'n et's one ob dem ar rich folks f'om up Norf."

"I don't happen to be rich, so we'll make it a dollar. What makes you think I'm from the North?"