he'd
just bought the hotel.

"'Who left the door open?' I says to him.

"'It's still open, I see,' says Peewee, lookin' at me.

"We exchanges a few more remarks, 'n' then Peewee tells me he's come to
Loueyville to buy some yearlin's fur ole man Harris.

"'There's a dispersal sale to-morrow at the Goodloe farm,' says Peewee.
''N' I hear there's some real nice stuff going under the hammer.
General Goodloe croaked this spring. They cleaned him in a cotton deal
last year 'n' now their goin' to sell the whole works--studs, brood
mares, colts--everything; plows, too--you want a plow? All you need is
a plow 'n' a mule to put you where you belong.'

"'Where's this farm at?' I says.

"'Over in Franklin County,' says Peewee. 'I'm goin' over--want to go
'long?'

"'You're on,' I says. 'I'm not particular who travels with me any
more.'

"We gets off the train next mawnin' at a little burg called Goodloe,
'n' there's three or four niggers with three or four ratty-lookin' ole
rigs to drive hossmen out to the sale. It's a fierce drive, 'n' the
springs is busted on our rig. I thinks we'll never get there, 'n' I
begins to cuss Peewee fur bringin' me.

"'What you got to kick at?' says Peewee. 'Ain't you gettin' a free
ride? Cheer up--think of all the nice plows you're goin' to see.'

"'You take them plows to hell 'n' make furrows in the cinders with
'em,' I says, wonderin' if I can get a train back to Loueyville anyways
soon.

"But when we gets to the farm I'm glad I come. Man, that was some
farm! Miles of level blue-grass pasture, with white fences cuttin' it
up into squares, barns 'n' paddocks 'n' sheds, all painted white, just
scattered around by the dozen. There's a track to work hosses on, too,
but it's pretty much growed up with weeds. The main house is back in
some big trees. It's brick 'n' has two porches, one on top of the
other, all the way around it.

"The sale is just startin' when we get there. The auctioneer is in the
judge's stand at the track 'n' the hosses is showed in the stretch.

"The first thing to sell is brood mares, 'n' they're as good a lot as I
ever looks over. I loses Peewee in the crowd, 'n' climbs on to a shed
roof to see better.

"Pretty soon here comes a real ole nigger leadin' a mare that looks to
be about as old as the nigger. At that she showed class. Her head's
still fine, 'n' her legs ain't got so much as a pimple on 'em.

"'Number eleven in your catalogues, gentleme