nted to free the slaves, and the idea of such
a thing made him furious; although it is hard to explain why it should,
for, as Dick Graham said, he had never owned the price of a pickaninny.
He had got it into his head that if the negroes were made free he would
be brought down to their level and compelled to go to work, and that was
something he could not bear to think of.

Bud Goble did not know what secession meant, but he was strongly in
favor of it, because the majority of the wealthy and influential
citizens in and around Barrington favored it; and taking his cue from
them, he not only turned the cold shoulder upon those who were suspected
of being on the side of the Union, but went further and became their
deadly enemy. Mr. Riley and the other members of the Committee of Safety
knew all this, and yet they employed him, the most vindictive and
unreliable man in the neighborhood, to keep them posted in regard to
what the Union men and free negroes were doing and saying. It is not to
be supposed that men of their intelligence would put much faith in his
reports, but they furnished an excuse for resorting to high-handed
measures, and that was really what the committee wanted.

Meanwhile Bud Goble was making the best of his way homeward, guided by
the blaze from a light-wood fire on the hearth which shone through the
open door. It was not such a home as the most of us would care to go to
at night, for it was the most cheerless place in the country for miles
around. Even the humblest cabin in Mr. Riley's negro quarter, half a
mile away, was a more inviting spot. And as for the family who occupied
it--well, a benighted traveler, no matter how tired and hungry he might
be, would have gone farther and camped in the woods rather than ask
supper and lodging of them.

"Now, Susie," exclaimed Mr. Goble cheerfully, addressing a slouchy,
unkempt woman who sat in front of the fire with her elbows resting on
her knees and a dingy cob pipe between her teeth, "punch up the blaze
an' dish up a supper while I read my letter an' see what's into it."

"Who's been a-writin' a letter to you?" queried the woman, without
changing her position.

"That's what I don't know till I read it. It's something about them
babolitionists that our gover'ment has ordered to get outen here, I
reckon. But I'm powerful hungry. I aint had a bite to eat sense I left
in the mornin'."

"Well, then, where's the meal an' bacon I told you to fetch along when