he worm fence beyond, and dropped, sobbing,
in the thick bluegrass.

An hour later he was walking swiftly through the fields toward the old
brick house that had sheltered him. He was very quiet at supper that
night, and after Miss Lucy had gone to bed and he and the Major were
seated before the fire, he was so quiet that the Major looked at him
anxiously.

"What's the matter Chad? Are you sick?"

"Nothin'--no, sir."

But the Major was uneasy, and when he rose to go to bed, he went over
and put his hand on the boy's head.

"Chad," he said, "if you hear of people saying mean things about you,
you mustn't pay any attention to them."

"No, sir."

"You're a good boy, and I want you to live here with me. Good-night,
Chad," he added, affectionately. Chad nearly broke down, but he
steadied himself.

"Good-by, Major," he said, brokenly. "I'm obleeged to you."

"Good-by?" repeated the Major. "Why?"

"Good-night, I mean," stammered Chad.

The Major stood inside his own door, listening to the boy's slow steps
up the second flight. "I'm gettin' to love that boy," he said,
wonderingly--"An' I'm damned if people who talk about him don't have me
to reckon with"--and the Major shook his head from side to side.
Several times he thought he could hear the boy moving around in the
room above him, and while he was wondering why the lad did not go to
bed, he fell asleep.

Chad was moving around. First, by the light of a candle, he laboriously
dug out a short letter to the Major--scalding it with tears. Then he
took off his clothes and got his old mountain-suit out of the
closet--moccasins and all--and put them on. Very carefully he folded
the pretty clothes he had taken off--just as Miss Lucy had taught
him--and laid them on the bed. Then he picked up his old rifle in one
hand and his old coonskin cap in the other, blew out the candle,
slipped noiselessly down the stairs in his moccasined feet, out the
unbolted door and into the starlit night. From the pike fence he turned
once to look back to the dark, silent house amid the dark trees. Then
he sprang down and started through the fields--his face set toward the
mountains.

It so happened that mischance led General Dean to go over to see Major
Buford about Chad next morning. The Major listened patiently--or tried
ineffectively to listen--and when the General was through, he burst out
with a vehemence that shocked and amazed his old friend.

"Damn those niggers!" he cried, i