kyart an' harness in
de stable las' night, an' dis mawnin' dey 're gone, an' new ones in
deir place. Co'se you knows whar dey come from!"

"Well, now, Frank, sence you mention it, I did see a witch flyin' roun'
here las' night on a broom-stick, an' it 'peared ter me she lit on yo'r
barn, an' I s'pose she turned yo'r old things into new ones. I wouldn't
bother my mind about it if I was you, for she may turn 'em back any
night, you know; an' you might as well have the use of 'em in the mean
while."

"Dat's all foolishness, Mis' Molly, an' I'm gwine ter fetch dat mule
right over here an' tell yo' son ter gimme my ole one back."

"My son's gone," she replied, "an' I don't know nothin' about yo'r old
mule. And what would I do with a mule, anyhow? I ain't got no barn to
put him in."

"I suspect you don't care much for us after all, Frank," said Rena
reproachfully--she had come in while they were talking. "You meet with
a piece of good luck, and you're afraid of it, lest it might have come
from us."

"Now, Miss Rena, you oughtn't ter say dat," expostulated Frank, his
reluctance yielding immediately. "I'll keep de mule an' de kyart an' de
harness--fac', I'll have ter keep 'em, 'cause I ain't got no others.
But dey 're gwine ter be yo'n ez much ez mine. W'enever you wants
anything hauled, er wants yo' lot ploughed, er anything--dat's yo'
mule, an' I'm yo' man an' yo' mammy's."

So Frank went back to the stable, where he feasted his eyes on his new
possessions, fed and watered the mule, and curried and brushed his coat
until it shone like a looking-glass.

"Now dat," remarked Peter, at the breakfast-table, when informed of the
transaction, "is somethin' lack rale w'ite folks."

No real white person had ever given Peter a mule or a cart. He had
rendered one of them unpaid service for half a lifetime, and had paid
for the other half; and some of them owed him substantial sums for work
performed. But "to him that hath shall be given"--Warwick paid for the
mule, and the real white folks got most of the credit.

XX

DIGGING UP ROOTS

When the first great shock of his discovery wore off, the fact of
Rena's origin lost to Tryon some of its initial repugnance--indeed, the
repugnance was not to the woman at all, as their past relations were
evidence, but merely to the thought of her as a wife. It could hardly
have failed to occur to so reasonable a man as Tryon that Rena's case
could scarcely be unique. Surely i