ace of meeting having been agreed upon, Bud hastened away,
confidently expecting to be successful in the attempt he was about to
make to frighten a supply of provisions out of the Methodist minister.
Elder Bowen did not believe in fighting, and of course it would be easy
to make him open his smoke-house as often as he chose to demand it.
Besides, Bud was made happy by a brilliant idea that suddenly popped
into his mind; and in order that there might be no hitch in it at the
critical time, he turned toward the post-office, hoping that he might
find Mr. Riley there. He was not disappointed. Mr. Riley and a good many
other planters about Barrington had taken to loitering around the
telegraph and post offices during the last few months, and were
generally to be met there or in the immediate neighborhood.

"Well, Goble, what is the news to-day?" he inquired, as Bud drew near
and intimated by a wink that he would like to see him privately. There
had been a time when Mr. Riley would have resented anything like
familiarity on the part of such a man as Goble, but now that he wanted
to use him, he was forced to treat him with a faint show of friendship.

"I don't get a bit of news of no kind," answered Bud, in a whining tone.
"'Pears like the babolitionists all shet up their mouths soon's I come
around. I've warned a few of 'em, but I aint seen no money for my
trouble yet. My time is wuth a dollar and a quarter a day, an' when I
give it all, it looks to me as though I oughter be paid for it; don't it
to you?"

"Certainly," replied the planter, putting his hand into his pocket. "Our
committee hasn't been organized long enough to get into working order
yet, and so I shall have to give you something out of my own funds. How
will that do to begin on?" he added, slipping a few pieces of silver
into Bud's ready palm. "Go ahead with your work and come to me when you
want anything. Whom have you warned?"

"Sarvent, sah," said Bud, pocketing the money. "Thank you very kindly,
sah. Well, I've warned that there ole man Bailey, for one. He's pizen."

"Let him alone," said Mr. Riley, rather shortly.

"Why, he's Union the wust kind," exclaimed Bud, who was astonished as
well as disappointed. He had hoped that the planter would tell him to
drive the storekeeper out of town, and so furnish him and his friends
with an excuse for any act of ruffianism they might be disposed to
indulge in. "He'd oughter be whopped, ole man Bailey had, an' drov