ave."

"Perhaps yer will stay here, and perhaps yer won't," replied the farmer
doggedly.

"There's no perhaps about it; I intend to stay here."

"I s'pose yer don't keer whether I'm willing or not."

"On the contrary, I do care. I had much rather stay with your consent
than without."

"Well, then, yer won't stay with my consent."

"Then I shall stay without it," answered Somers, with a degree of
decision which was exceedingly annoying to his involuntary host.

"No, yer won't," growled the farmer.

"I will pay you well for the use of this room, and for all that I eat and
drink," said Somers, wishing to be fully understood.

"Yer can't stay here."

"No, yer can't," added Tom.

"I have made you a fair offer, and am willing to do what is right; and,
as I said before, I intend to stay here till to-night, whether you are
willing or not."

"Yer kin put up your pistol; I ain't afeerd on it."

"I have no desire to use the pistol to your injury, and shall not do so
unless in self-defense. You know that I am a fugitive."

"A nigger, by gracious!" exclaimed the farmer, whose vocabulary was very
limited, and who had no idea that the word "fugitive" could mean anything
but a runaway negro.

"You know that the soldiers are after me, and it will not be safe for me
to leave this house before dark. I'm not a nigger; and it makes no
difference to you what I am."

"You are a dirty Yankee; and I'd rather hev a hundred niggers in my house
than one Yankee."

"That's a matter of taste. If you are fond of negroes, I don't interfere
with you for that."

"Shet up!" snarled the farmer, highly displeased with the answer of the
fugitive. "I won't hev a Yankee in my house a single hour."

"Very well; we won't argue the matter. You can do anything you please
about it," replied Somers with perfect indifference as he seated himself
in a chair.

"Then yer kin leave."

"I shall not leave; on the contrary, I shall remain here till night."

"I reckon we'll see about that. I'll jest go down and call up two or
three of them soldiers, and let 'em know you're a Yankee. I calkilate
they'll tote you out of this rather sudden."

"Go ahead!" replied Somers coolly.

"I reckon ye'll tell another story by the time they git here."

"I reckon your son Tom will too," added the unwelcome guest.

"See here, dad; that won't work, nohow," interposed the hopeful son.
"They'll ketch me if yer do."

"Exactly so," added Somers, who, of course,