bout to offer a reward of two hundred and fifty dollars, and I
thought I would allow you privately the opportunity of securing the
money, before I made it public. Where is Dyce?"

"You might as well ax the man in the moon. The only satisfaction she
gin me when she left home, was--she was gwine to New York to hunt for
Miss Ellie. I tole her she was heading for a wild goose chase, and her
answer signified she was leaving all of them fowls behind. If she was
here, she'd be only a 'clean chip in your homny pot'; for she wouldn't
never touch your job with a forty-foot pole, and what's more, she'd tie
my hands. I ain't afeard of my ole 'oman, but I respects her too high
to cross her; and if ever you git married, you will find it's a mighty
good rule to 'let sleeping dogs lay'. Who do you expect me to ketch for
two hundred and fifty dollars?"

"A lame negro man, about medium size, who was seen carrying a bundle on
the end of a stick, and who was hanging about the railroad station on
the night of General Darrington's death. He probably lives on some
plantation south of town, as he was travelling in that direction, after
the severe storm that night. I want him, not because he had any
connection with your master's murder, but to obtain from him a
description of a strange white man, whom he directed to the railroad
water-tank. If you can discover that lame negro, and bring him to my
office, I will pay you two hundred and fifty dollars, and give him a
new suit of clothes. The only hope for General Darrington's
granddaughter is in putting that man on the witness stand, to
corroborate her statement of a conversation which she heard. This is
Wednesday. I will give you until Saturday noon to report. If you do not
succeed I shall then advertise. If you wish to save Miss Brentano, help
me to find that man."

He swung himself into the saddle, and rode away, leaving Bedney staring
after him, in pitiable dubiety as to his own line of duty.

"Wimmen are as hard to live peaceable with as a hatful of hornets, but
the'r brains works spryer even than the'r tongues; and they do think as
much faster 'an a man, as a express train beats er eight ox-team. Dyce
is the safest sign-post! If she was only here now, I couldn't botch
things, for she sees clare through a mill-stone, and she'd shove me the
right way. If I go a huntin', I may flounder into a steel trap; if I
stand still, wuss may happen. Mars Lennox is too much for me. I
wouldn't trust him