at
length with him.

Her attention was diverted from them by the appearance of Johnnie
herself just inside a window. She ran forward and tapped on the pane.
Johnnie put down her tray and came swiftly out, passing Shade and Miss
Sessions in the side entry with a word.

"What is it?" she inquired of Mandy, with a premonition of disaster in
her tones.

"Hit's Deanie," choked the Meacham woman. "She's right sick, and they
won't let her leave the mill--leastways she's skeered to ask, and so am
I. I 'lowed I ought to come and tell you, Johnnie. Was that right? You
wanted me to, didn't you?" anxiously.

"Yes--yes--yes!" cried Johnnie, reaching up swift, nervous fingers to
unfasten the cap from her hair, thrusting it in the pocket of the apron,
and untying the apron strings. "Wait a minute. I must give these things
back. Oh, let's hurry!"

It was but a moment after that she emerged once more on the porch, and
apparently for the first time noticed Buckheath.

"To-morrow, then," Miss Sessions was saying to him as he moved toward
the two girls. "To-morrow morning." And with a patronizing nod to them
all, she withdrew and rejoined her guests.

"I never found you when I went up to the house," explained Mandy
nervously, "and so I stopped Shade on the street and axed him would he
come along with me. Maybe it would do some good if he was to go up with
us to the mill. They pay more attention to a man person. I tell you,
Johnnie, the baby's plumb broke down and sick."

The three were moving swiftly along the darkened street now.

"I'm going to take the children away from Pap," Johnnie said in a
curious voice, rapid and monotonous, as though she were reciting
something to herself. "I have obliged to do it. There must be a law
somewhere. God won't let me fail."

"Huh-uh," grunted Buckheath, instantly. "You can't do such a thing. Ef
you was married, and yo' mother would let you adopt 'em, I reckon the
courts might agree to that."

"Shade," Johnnie turned upon him, "you've got more influence with Pap
Himes than anybody. I believe if you'd talk to him, he'd let me have the
children. I could support them now."

"I don't want to fall out with Pap Himes--for nothing" responded Shade.
"If you'll say that you'll wed me to-morrow morning, I'll go to Pap and
get him to give up the children." Neither of them paid any attention to
Mandy, who listened open-eyed and open-eared to this singular courtship.
"Or I'll get him to take 'em out