street. He had become
unconsciously apish with excitement. His old black face worked and his
hands twitched.

He was so far out of breath when he reached the stranger's side that he
could scarcely make himself heard, as, pulling his hat off, he cried,
agitatedly:

"Doctah! Doctah Atkinson, sah! Doctah Williams Atkinson!"

The stranger did not hear him distinctly, and waved him off, evidently
taking him for a beggar.

"I've nothing for you, uncle," he said, with condescending good-nature.

Uncle Matt found some of his breath, though not enough to steady his
voice. But his strenuousness was almost passionate. "Doctah Williams
Atkinson," he said, "I ain't beggin', Doctah Atkinson, sah; on'y axin' if
I might speak a few words to you, sah!" His shrewd insistance on the name
was effective.

The elderly gentleman turned and looked at him in surprised questioning.

"How do you know me?" he said. "This is the first time I have been in
Washington--and I've not been here an hour."

"I knowed you, Doctah Atkinson, sah, in Delisleville, Delisle County.
Ev'ybody knowed you, Doctah! I was dar endurin' er de war. I was dar de
time you--you an' Judge De Willoughby passed shots 'bout dat Confed'ate
flag."

"What do you want?" said Dr. Atkinson, somewhat unsmilingly. These were
days when stories of the Confederate flag were generally avoided.
Northerners called it the rebel flag.

Matt had had the discretion to avoid this mistake. He was wild with
anxious excitement. Suddenly here had appeared a man who could give all
the evidence desired, if he would do so. He had left Delisleville
immediately on the close of the war and had not been heard of. He might,
like so many, be passing on to some unknown point, and remain in the city
only between trains. There was no time to find any better qualified
person than himself to attend to this matter. It must be attended to upon
the spot and at this moment. Uncle Matt knew all the incongruities of the
situation. No one could have known them better. But a sort of hysteric
courage grew out of his desperation.

"Doctah Williams Atkinson, sah!" he said. "May I take de liberty of
walking jes' behin' you an' axin' you a question. I mustn't keep you
standin'. I beg you to 'scuse me, sah. I kin talk an' walk at de same
time."

Dr. Williams Atkinson was an amenable person, and Matt's imploring old
darky countenance was not without its pathos. He was so evidently racked
by his emotions.

"Wha