ed myself, with
excitement. Mother was scandalised, but father laughed and said boys
would be boys. But poor Ben hasn't had his uncle's chances, and while
he has always behaved well here, he could hardly be expected to carry
his liquor like a gentleman of the old school."

"My dear ladies," said the colonel, "we have heard only one side of
the story. I guess there's no doubt Ben was intoxicated, but we know
he isn't a drinking man, and one drink--or even one drunk--doesn't
make a drunkard, nor one fight a rowdy. Barclay Fetters and Tom McRae
are not immaculate, and perhaps Ben can exonerate himself."

"I certainly hope so," said Miss Laura earnestly. "I am sorry for Ben,
but I could not permit a drunken rowdy to come to the house, or let my
niece be seen upon the street with him."

"It would only be fair," said the colonel, "to give him a chance to
explain, when he comes in again. I rather like Ben. He has some fine
mechanical ideas, and the making of a man in him, unless I am
mistaken. I have been hoping to find a place for him in the new cotton
mill, when it is ready to run."

They were still speaking of Ben, when there was an irresolute knock at
the rear door of the parlour, in which they were seated.

"Miss Laura, O Miss Laura," came a muffled voice. "Kin I speak to you
a minute. It's mighty pertickler, Miss Laura, fo' God it is!"

"Laura," said the colonel, "bring Catharine in. I saw that you were
troubled once before when you were compelled to refuse her something.
Henceforth your burdens shall be mine. Come in, Catharine," he called,
"and tell us what's the matter. What's your trouble? What's it all
about?"

The woman, red-eyed from weeping, came in, wringing her apron.

"Miss Laura," she sobbed, "an' Colonel French, my husban' Bud is done
gone and got inter mo' trouble. He's run away f'm Mistah Fettuhs, w'at
he wuz sol' back to in de spring, an' he's done be'n fine' fifty
dollahs mo', an' he's gwine ter be sol' back ter Mistah Fettuhs in de
mawnin', fer ter finish out de ole fine and wo'k out de new one. I's
be'n ter see 'im in de gyard house, an' he say Mistah Haines, w'at
use' ter be de constable and is a gyard fer Mistah Fettuhs now, beat
an' 'bused him so he couldn' stan' it; an' 'ceptin' I could pay all
dem fines, he'll be tuck back dere; an'he say ef dey evah beats him
ag'in, dey'll eithuh haf ter kill him, er he'll kill some er dem. An'
Bud is a rash man, Miss Laura, an' I'm feared dat he'll do w