hand wi' the kyards," said Cajy, as he handed the pipe,
"but I reckon I can patch out your misinformation, Becky, bekaze the
other day, whiles I was a-finishin' up Mizzers Perdue's rollin'-pin, I
hearn a rattlin' in the road. I looked out, an' Spite Calderwood was
a-drivin' by in his buggy, an' thar sot Lucinda by him. It'd in-about
drapt out er my min'."

Free Joe sat on the door-sill and fumbled at his hat, flinging it from
one hand to the other.

"You ain't see um gwine back, is you, Mars Cajy?" he asked after a
while.

"Ef they went back by this road," said Mr. Staley, with the air of one
who is accustomed to weigh well his words, "it must 'a' bin endurin' of
the time whiles I was asleep, bekaze I hain't bin no furder from my shop
than to yon bed."

"Well, sir!" exclaimed Free Joe in an awed tone, which Mr. Staley seemed
to regard as a tribute to his extraordinary powers of statement.

"Ef it's my beliefs you want," continued the old man, "I'll pitch 'em at
you fair and free. My beliefs is that Spite Calderwood is gone an' took
Lucindy outen the county. Bless your heart and soul! when Spite
Calderwood meets the Old Boy in the road they'll be a turrible scuffle.
You mark what I tell you."

Free Joe, still fumbling with his hat, rose and leaned against the
door-facing. He seemed to be embarrassed. Presently he said:

"I speck I better be gittin' 'long. Nex' time I see Lucindy, I'm gwine
tell 'er w'at Miss Becky say 'bout de queen er spades--dat I is. Ef dat
don't tickle 'er, dey ain't no nigger 'oman never bin tickle'."

He paused a moment, as though waiting for some remark or comment, some
confirmation of misfortune, or, at the very least, some endorsement of
his suggestion that Lucinda would be greatly pleased to know that she
had figured as the queen of spades; but neither Miss Becky nor her
brother said anything.

"One minnit ridin' in the buggy 'longside er Mars Spite, en de nex'
highfalutin' 'roun' playin' de queen er spades. Mon, deze yer nigger
gals gittin' up in de pictur's; dey sholy is."

With a brief "Good night, Miss Becky, Mars Cajy," Free Joe went out into
the darkness, followed by little Dan. He made his way to the poplar,
where Lucinda had been in the habit of meeting him, and sat down. He sat
there a long time; he sat there until little Dan, growing restless,
trotted off in the direction of the Calderwood place. Dozing against the
poplar, in the gray dawn of the morning, Free Joe heard Sp