from. Tommy say he los'. Mr. Steve ain't comin' back
till to-morrow. What I gwine do, Mr. Davis? Call up Mr. Bob Kelley? All
right, suh--yes, suh. Das what I'll do."

Joe looked at Tommy with a grin.

"What's that ol' nigger talkin' about?" he asked.

Tommy's eyes narrowed. Old Aunt Cindy wasn't to be called that even by
such a travelled and honoured gentleman as his present guest.

"Don't call her a nigger," he said. "Hear?"

Joe nodded. There was a touch of wistfulness in his eyes now--there had
been, ever since he entered this mansion stocked with biscuit and jam.

The old woman's voice came to the diners clearly now. She always grew
excited when she talked over the telephone.

"Dat you, Mr. Bob Kelley? Dis Cindy over at Mr. Steve Earle. Mr. Kelley,
dey's a stray chile here. Yes, suh, jus' drap from de clouds. Mr. John
Davis he say you likely git some inquiries about him. Mr. Kelley, I
gwine sen' him over to yo' house by Jake. Yes, suh--dis evenin', right
away."

Tommy slid down from his chair. Joe went on with his biscuits and jam. A
dirty little hand that two bathings had not whitened closed tight around
a slender white glass of cold milk. Tommy ran into the hall.

"You ain't goin' to send him away!" he cried. "He's goin' to stay here
wif me. He's goin' to sleep wif me. Hear, Aunt Cindy?"

Still protesting, he was following her through the hall, out on the
high-columned front porch, and around the house toward the barn.

"Hit won't do, honey," she was saying over and over. "You listen to yo'
mammy now, you 'pen' on her. He ain't de chile for you to play wid. You
can't touch de kittle an' not git smut on you. Yo' ol' mammy know. She
raise you from a baby. Don't pull at my skirts, honey. It don't do no
good. Yo' ol' mammy always is ak de bes' way for you, honey, an' she
always will. Mis' Bob Kelley, she'll be good to him. Mr. Bob Kelley,
he'll fin' out whar de chile belong."

She stopped in the back yard, near the lot.

"Jake!" she called. "Oh, Jake!"

From a cabin beside the garden an elongated darky uncoiled himself out
of a split-bottom chair and sauntered leisurely toward her.

"Jake, hitch up Nelly to de buggy. Dey's a los' chile here. I done spoke
to Mr. Bob Kelley 'bout him, an' I want you to take him over dar."

Then Tommy broke loose; then the future master of Freedom Hill asserted
his authority. He might obey the old woman in such minor matters as
washing his face and putting on a clean n