ze.

"You must live to receive it," he said, "we need that money for the
race. It must not go back to the white folks. Ain't you got nobody to
leave it to?"

"Not a chick ner a chile, 'ceptin' Sis' Dicey Fairfax here."

Mr. Buford breathed again. "Then leave it to her, by all means," he
said.

"I don' want to have nothin' to do with de money of de daid," said Sis'
Dicey Fairfax.

"Now, don't talk dat away, Sis' Dicey," said the sick woman. "Brother
Buford is right, case you sut'ny has been good to me sence I been layin'
hyeah on de bed of affliction, an' dey ain't nobody more fitterner to
have dat money den you is. Ef de Lawd des lets me live long enough, I's
gwine to mek my will in yo' favoh."

"De Lawd's will be done," replied the other with resignation, and Mr.
Buford echoed with an "Amen!"

He stayed very long that evening, planning and talking with the two old
women, who received his words as the Gospel. Two weeks later the
_Ethiopian Banner_, which was the organ of Little Africa, announced that
Sis' Jane Callender had received a back pension which amounted to more
than five hundred dollars. Thereafter Mr. Buford was seen frequently in
the little cottage, until one day, after a lapse of three or four weeks,
a policeman entered Sis' Jane Callender's cottage and led her away
amidst great excitement to prison. She was charged with pension fraud,
and against her protestations, was locked up to await the action of the
Grand Jury.

The promoter was very active in his client's behalf, but in spite of all
his efforts she was indicted and came up for trial.

It was a great day for the denizens of Little Africa, and they crowded
the court room to look upon this stranger who had come among them to
grow so rich, and then suddenly to fall so low.

The prosecuting attorney was a young Southerner, and when he saw the
prisoner at the bar he started violently, but checked himself. When the
prisoner saw him, however, she made no effort at self control.

"Lawd o' mussy," she cried, spreading out her black arms, "if it ain't
Miss Lou's little Bobby."

The judge checked the hilarity of the audience; the prosecutor
maintained his dignity by main force, and the bailiff succeeded in
keeping the old lady in her place, although she admonished him: "Pshaw,
chile, you needn't fool wid me, I nussed dat boy's mammy when she borned
him."

It was too much for the young attorney, and he would have been less a
man if it had not be