sted, more dead than alive, there stood
before John the thing Garnet was omitting--Cornelius Leggett.

When John passed out again Fannie saw purpose in his face and smiled.

"Well?--Can you build him in?--into your plans?"

The youth stared unintelligently. She laughed at him.

"My stars! you forgot to try!"

* * * * *

It was late at night when Lazarus Graves and Captain Champion, returning
from Pulaski City, where they had been hurrying matters into shape for
the prosecution of Leggett, rode down the Susie and Pussie Pike toward
Suez. Where the Widewood road forked off into the forest on their left
they stopped, having unexpectedly come upon a third rider bound the
other way. He seemed quite alone and stood by his horse in deep shade,
tightening the girth and readjusting blanket and saddle. Champion
laughed and predicted his own fate after death.

"Turn that freckled face o' yo's around here, Johnnie March; we ain't
Garnet and Pettigrew, an' th' ain't nothin' the matteh with that
saddle."

"Howdy, Cap'm," said John, as if too busy to look up.

"Howdy yo'seff! What new devilment you up to now? None? Oh, then we
didn't see nobody slide off fum behine that saddle an' slip into the
bushes. Who was it, John? Was it Johanna, so-called?"

"No, it was Leggett," said John.

"Oh, I reckon!" laughed the Captain.

"Come on," grumbled Graves, and they left him.

XXI.

MR. LEGGETT'S CHICKEN-PIE POLICY

THE youth whistled his charge out of the brush and moved on, sometimes
in the saddle with the mulatto mounted behind, sometimes, where the way
was steep, walking beside the tired horse. When both rode he had to bear
a continual stream of tobacco-scented whisperings poured into his ear.

"Mr. March, that crowd wouldn't do me this a-way if they knowed the
patri'tisms I feels to 'em. You see, it's they financialities incur the
late rise in Clairwateh County scrip. Yass, seh; which I catch the
fo'cas' o' they intentions in time to be infested in a good passle of it
myseff."

"So that now your school funds are all straight again?"

"Ezac'ly! all straight an' comp'ehensive. An' what shell we say then?
Shell we commit sin that grace may aboun'? Supposin' I has been too
trancadillious; I say jis' _supposin'_ I may have evince a rather too
wifely pretendencies; what does they care fo' that? No, seh, all they
wants is to git shet o' me."

"And do you think they're wrong?"

"Mr. M