w anybody w'at needs a good
cook, suh? I's stoppin' wid a cullud fam'ly roun' de corner yonder 'tel
I kin fin' a place."

"Do you really expect to find your husband? He may be dead long ago."

She shook her head emphatically. "Oh no, he ain' dead. De signs an' de
tokens tells me. I dremp three nights runnin' on'y dis las' week dat I
foun' him."

"He may have married another woman. Your slave marriage would not have
prevented him, for you never lived with him after the war, and without
that your marriage doesn't count."

"Wouldn' make no diff'ence wid Sam. He wouldn' marry no yuther 'ooman
'tel he foun' out 'bout me. I knows it," she added. "Sump'n's be'n
tellin' me all dese years dat I's gwine fin' Sam 'fo I dies."

"Perhaps he's outgrown you, and climbed up in the world where he
wouldn't care to have you find him."

"No, indeed, suh," she replied, "Sam ain' dat kin' er man. He wuz good
ter me, Sam wuz, but he wuzn' much good ter nobody e'se, fer he wuz one
er de triflin'es' han's on de plantation. I 'spec's ter haf ter suppo't
'im w'en I fin' 'im, fer he nebber would work 'less'n he had ter. But
den he wuz free, an' he didn' git no pay fer his work, an' I don'
blame 'im much. Mebbe he's done better sence he run erway, but I ain'
'spectin' much."

"You may have passed him on the street a hundred times during the
twenty-five years, and not have known him; time works great changes."

She smiled incredulously. "I'd know 'im 'mongs' a hund'ed men. Fer dey
wuzn' no yuther merlatter man like my man Sam, an' I couldn' be mistook.
I's toted his picture roun' wid me twenty-five years."

"May I see it?" asked Mr. Ryder. "It might help me to remember whether I
have seen the original."

As she drew a small parcel from her bosom, he saw that it was fastened
to a string that went around her neck. Removing several wrappers, she
brought to light an old-fashioned daguerreotype in a black case. He
looked long and intently at the portrait. It was faded with time, but
the features were still distinct, and it was easy to see what manner of
man it had represented.

He closed the case, and with a slow movement handed it back to her.

"I don't know of any man in town who goes by that name," he said, "nor
have I heard of any one making such inquiries. But if you will leave me
your address, I will give the matter some attention, and if I find out
anything I will let you know."

She gave him the number of a house in the neighborho