to saddle his horse. A long lane led through the negro quarter to the
field in which the hands were putting in the time in clearing out fence
corners and burning brush, while waiting for the early crops to get high
enough for hoeing. The overseer's mule was hitched to the fence, and the
overseer himself sat on a convenient stump, watching the hands at their
work, and whittling the little switch that served him for a riding-whip.
The man was almost a stranger to Marcy. The latter had seen and spoken
to him a few times since his return from Barrington, but of course he
did not like him, for he could not forget that his mother was afraid of
him, and would be glad to see him leave the place. He liked him still
less two minutes later, for, as he drew rein beside the overseer's perch,
threw his right leg over the horn of his saddle and nodded to the man,
the latter said, first looking around to make sure that none of the blacks
were within hearing:

"I was sorry to see that man ride away from the big house a while ago."

"What man?" inquired Marcy. He looked over his shoulder and saw that the
front of the house was entirely concealed from view, and that the road
that ran before it "was shut out from sight by the trees and the
whitewashed negro quarter. It followed then, as a matter of course, that
Hanson could not have seen anybody ride away from the house. He was deep
enough in the plot to know that if mother and son had not had a visitor,
they ought to have had one.

"I suspicioned it was that shiftless, do-nothing chap, Kelsey," replied
the overseer. "Looked sorter like his mu-el."

"Oh, yes; Kelsey has been up to see us," answered Marcy. And then he
tapped his boot with his whip and waited to see what was coming next. If
the overseer wanted to talk, he might talk all he pleased; but Marcy was
resolved that he would not help him along. Hanson twisted about on the
stump, cleared his throat once or twice, and, seeing that the boy was
not disposed to break the silence, said, as if he were almost afraid to
broach the subject:

"Have much of anything to talk about?"

"He talked a good deal, but didn't say much."

"Mention my name?"

"Yes. He mentioned yours and Shelby's and Dillon's and the
postmaster's."

"Say anything bad about us?" continued the overseer, after waiting in
vain for the boy to go on and repeat the conversation he had held with
Kelsey.

"Not so very bad," answered Marcy, looking up and down the lo