at
rattle-pate o' you-all's? I don't suppose they is. Nobody remembers
nothin'. Ah! hum."

Corny's face had sobered and he held out his hand in sympathy.

"Shake, old fellow! and look-a-here, haven't you held on to your
grudge long enough? The Doc's a fine man if he is a mite greedy for
the almighty dollar. Land of love! Aren't we all? Else why are we
acting like such a parcel of idiots this minute! Get up, Cunnel. Get
some energy into your tired old body and see how 'twill feel. At
present, you're about as inspiriting as a galvanized squash, and first
you know your willing helpers'll quit. Come on. Let's strike off a
bit deeper into the woods. Too many banging around the roots of that
one old tree. First they know it'll be tumblin' over on 'em. Come on
out of harm's way. You and I've been good friends ever since I used to
go to the Manor House and flirt with--"

"Hold on! Don't you dare to say that name to me, Corny, you fool! you
ain't wuth your salt but I'd ruther it had been you than him. You
clear out my sight. I ain't got no thoughts, I ain't got no
memories--I--I--ain't got no little girl no more!"

The man's emotion was real. Tears rose to his faded eyes and rolled
down over his gaunt cheeks; leaving, it must be admitted, some clean
streaks there. Big-hearted, idle Corny couldn't endure this sight and
was now doubly glad he had wandered to this place that day. The
Colonel was a gentleman, sadly discouraged and, in reality, almost
heart-broken. His merry friend could remember him as something very
different from now; when his attire was less careless, his face
clean-shaven, the melancholy droop of his countenance less pronounced.
He had always talked much as he did still but he had been, despite
this fact, a proud and happy man. These strangers mustn't see the old
planter weeping!

"Come."

The touch of the jester's hand was as gentle as Lucetta's own, as he
now adroitly guided his old friend to a sheltered spot where none
could see his face. Except--Well, Dorothy was quite near; harmlessly
prodding away at the earth with Aunt Betty's best paperknife. Her
digging was aimless, for her thoughts were no longer on her present
task. They were so absorbed that she didn't hear the approach of the
two men--nor of one other, yet unseen. Suddenly, the little steel
blade of her implement struck with a ringing sound upon something
metallic, and she paused in astonishment. Then bent to her work
excitedly, wondering: