ck boy from about a corner of the
tavern, to whom Murrell relinquished his horse.

"Let's liquor," said the captain over his shoulder, moving off in the
direction of the bar.

"Come on, Nevvy!" said Yancy following, and they all entered the tavern.

"Well, here's to the best of good luck!" said Murrell, as he raised his
glass to his lips.

"Same here," responded Yancy. Murrell pulled out a roll of bills, one of
which he tossed on the bar. Then after a moment's hesitation he detached
a second bill from the roll and turned to Hannibal.

"Here, youngster--a present for you;" he said good-naturedly. Hannibal,
embarrassed by the unexpected gift, edged to his Uncle Bob's side.

"Ain't you-all got nothing to say to the gentleman?" asked Yancy.

"Thank you, sir," said the boy.

"That sounds a heap better. Let's see--why, if it ain't ten
dollars--think of that!" said Yancy, in surprise.

"Let's have another drink," suggested Murrell.

Presently Hannibal stole out into the yard. He still held the bill in
his hand, for he did not quite know how to dispose of his great wealth.
After debating this matter for a moment he knotted it carefully in one
corner of his handkerchief. But this did not quite suit him, for he
untied the knot and looked at the bill again, turning it over and over
in his hand. Then he folded it carefully into the smallest possible
compass and once more tied a corner of his handkerchief about it, this
time with two knots instead of one; these he afterward tested with his
teeth.

"I 'low she won't come undone now!" he said, with satisfaction. He
stowed the handkerchief away in his trousers pocket, ramming it very
tight with his fist. He was much relieved when this was done, for
wearing a care-free air he sauntered across the yard and established
himself on the top rail of the corn-field fence.

The colored boy, armed with an ax, appeared at the woodpile and began to
chop in the desultory fashion of his race, pausing every few seconds to
stare in the direction of his white compatriot, who met his glance
with reserve. Whereupon Mr. Slosson's male domestic indulged in certain
strange antics that were not rightly any part of woodchopping. This yet
further repelled Hannibal.

"The disgustin' chattel!" he muttered under his breath, quoting his
Uncle Bob, with whom, in theory at least, race feeling was strong. Yancy
appeared at the door of the bar and called to him, and as the boy slid
from the fence and r