remembered was
the fact that the space under the stairway--the building had two
stories--was boarded up so as to form a large closet, where the pupils
deposited their extra coats and wraps, as well as their lunches. The
closet had also been used as a reformatory for refractory pupils, and
this was one reason why Gabriel remembered it so well; he had spent
numerous uncomfortable hours there at a time when darkness and isolation
had real terrors for him.

The building had been abandoned by the whites during the war, and was
for a time used as a hospital. At the close of the war it was turned
over to the negroes, who established there a flourishing school, which
was presided over by a native Southerner, an old gentleman whom the war
had stripped of this world's goods.

Gabriel thought it best to begin operations before the sun went down. He
made a detour wide enough to place the school-house between him and
Shady Dale, so that if by any chance his movements should attract
attention he would have the appearance of approaching the building quite
by accident. Under the circumstances, it was perhaps fortunate that he
took this precaution, for when he drew near the school-house, the Rev.
Jeremiah Tomlin was standing in the back door flourishing a broom.

"Hello, Jeremiah!" said Gabriel by way of salutation. "What's up now?"

"Good-evenin', Mister Gabe," responded the Rev. Jeremiah. "Dey been
havin' some plasterin' done in my chu'ch, suh, an' we 'lowd we'd hol'
pra'r-meetin' here ter-night. An' I'll tell you why, suh: You know
mighty well how we coloured folks does--we ain't got nothin' fer ter
hide, an' we couldn't hide it ef we did had sump'n. Well, suh, dem
mongst us what got any erligion is bleeze ter show it; when de sperret
move um, dey bleeze ter let one an'er know it; an' in dat way, suh, dey
do a heap er movin' 'bout. Dey rastles wid Satan, ez you may say, when
dey gits in a weavin' way; an' I wuz fear'd, suh, dat dey mought shake
de damp plasterin' down."

"But you have no pulpit here," suggested Gabriel, who associated a
pulpit with all religious gatherings.

"So much de better, suh," replied the Rev. Jeremiah. "Ef you wuz ter
come ter my chu'ch, you'd allers see me come down when I gits warmed up.
Dey ain't no pulpit big nuff for me long about dat time. No, suh; I'm
bleeze ter have elbow-room, an' I'm mighty glad dey ain't no pulpit in
here. But whar you been, Mr. Gabe?" inquired the Rev. Jeremiah, craftily
ch