about two
inches long, dropped into her lap. Mr. Churchill sat leaning a little
forward, as if intent on Dyce's movements, but his elbow rested on the
arm of the rocking chair, and holding his hand up to screen his face
from the blaze of the fire, he was closely watching Bedney. When Dyce
shook out and held up a faded, dingy blue silk handkerchief, the lawyer
noted a sudden twinkle in the old man's eyes, but no other feature
moved, and he stooped to take a coal of fire from the hearth.

"There is the hankchuf that Bedney found. But mebbe you don't know what
this is, that I wrapped up in it, to bring us good luck?"

She spread the handkerchief over his knee, and held up the small gray
furry object, which had fallen from its folds.

"Rabbit's foot? Let me see; yes, that is the genuine left hind foot. I
know all about it, because when my regiment was ordered to the front,
my old colored Mammy--Ma'm Judy--who nursed me, sewed one just like
that, inside the lining of my coat skirt. But, Dyce, that rabbit's foot
was not worth a button; for the very first battle I was in, a cannon
ball killed my horse under me, and carried away my coat tail--rabbit's
foot and all. Don't pin your faith to left hind feet, they are fatal
frauds. You are positive, this is the handkerchief Bedney found? It
smells of asafoetida and camphor, and looks like it had recently been
tied around somebody's sore throat."

"Marse Alfred, I will swear on a stack of Bibles high as the 'Piscopal
church steeple, that Bedney Darrington gim'me that same blue hankcher,
and he said he found it. I wasn't with him when he found it, but I
hardly think he would 'a stole a' old rag like that. I have perduced
it! now if you want to sarch behind it, you must tackle Bedney."

She resumed her knitting and her lips closed like the spring of a steel
trap.

"Dyce, I haven't heard the rooster crow yet. Somebody has fought shy of
the pot. See here, I am in earnest now, and I will give you both a
friendly word of warning. Your actions are so suspicious, that unless
you produce the real article you found, I shall be obliged to send you
to jail, and try you for the murder. How do I know that you and Bedney
are not the guilty parties, instead of General Darrington's
granddaughter? This soiled rag will impose neither upon me, nor upon
the court, and I give you five minutes to put into my possession the
real genuine handkerchief. I shall know it when I see it, because it is
whit