o had a mortgage
on the ho-tel, an' he sol' Lee up. I hear he's barberin' or somethin'
er that sort up to Atlanta, an' the hotel's run by another man.
There's Fetters comin' in now."

The colonel glanced in the direction indicated, and was surprised at
the appearance of the redoubtable Fetters, who walked over and took
his seat at the table with the judge and the lawyers. He had expected
to meet a tall, long-haired, red-faced, truculent individual, in a
slouch hat and a frock coat, with a loud voice and a dictatorial
manner, the typical Southerner of melodrama. He saw a keen-eyed,
hard-faced small man, slightly gray, clean-shaven, wearing a
well-fitting city-made business suit of light tweed. Except for a few
little indications, such as the lack of a crease in his trousers,
Fetters looked like any one of a hundred business men whom the colonel
might have met on Broadway in any given fifteen minutes during
business hours.

The colonel timed his meal so as to leave the dining-room at the same
moment with Fetters. He went up to Fetters, who was chewing a
toothpick in the office, and made himself known.

"I am Mr. French," he said--he never referred to himself by his
military title--"and you, I believe, are Mr. Fetters?"

"Yes, sir, that's my name," replied Fetters without enthusiasm, but
eyeing the colonel keenly between narrowed lashes.

"I've been trying to see you for some time, about a matter," continued
the colonel, "but never seemed able to catch up with you before."

"Yes, I heard you were at my house, but I was asleep upstairs, and
didn't know you'd be'n there till you'd gone."

"Your man told me you had gone to the capital for two weeks."

"My man? Oh, you mean Turner! Well, I reckon you must have riled
Turner somehow, and he thought he'd have a joke on you."

"I don't quite see the joke," said the colonel, restraining his
displeasure. "But that's ancient history. Can we sit down over here in
the shade and talk by ourselves for a moment?"

Fetters followed the colonel out of doors, where they drew a couple of
chairs to one side, and the colonel stated the nature of his business.
He wished to bargain for the release of a Negro, Bud Johnson by name,
held to service by Fetters under a contract with Clarendon County. He
was willing to pay whatever expense Fetters had been to on account of
Johnson, and an amount sufficient to cover any estimated profits from
his services.

Meanwhile Fetters picked his tee