this unusual bounty, Peter said, "Thank you, sir. God bless
you. It'll be a great help." It meant for the hapless drinker whisky, and
he was quick to note the way in which Grey became interested in the man
who had lost fingers.

Grey lingered. "I must risk your barber's awkwardness," he said.

"Oh, he can shave pretty well when he's sober. He's our only darkey, sir.
You can't miss him. I might show you his shop." This Grey declined.

"I suppose, sir," said Peter, curious, "all darkies look so much alike
that it is hard to tell them apart."

"Oh, not for us--not for us."

Then Peter was still more sure that the gentleman with the gold-headed
cane was from the South. As Grey lingered thoughtful, Lamb was
maliciously inspired by the size of Grey's donation and the prospect it
offered. He studied the face of the Southern gentleman and ventured to
say, "Excuse me, sir, but if you want to get that man back--"

"I want him! Good gracious! I did not own him. My inquiries were, I might
say, casual, purely casual."

Lamb, thanks to the Penhallows, had had some education at the school for
the mill children, but what was meant by "purely casual" he did not know.
If it implied lack of interest, that was not the case, or why the
questions and this gift, large for Westways. But if the gentleman did not
own Josiah's years of lost labour, some one else did, and who was it?

As Grey turned away, he said, "I may see you again. I am with my cousin
at Grey Pine. By the bye, how will the county vote?"

Peter assured him that the Democratic Party would carry the county. "I am
glad," said Grey, "that the people, the real backbone of the country,
desire to do justice to the South." He felt himself on the way to another
exposition of constitutional rights, but realising that it was unwise
checked the outflow of eloquence. He could not, however, refrain from
adding, "Your people then are a law-abiding community."

"Yes, sir," said the lover of law, "we are just that, and good sound
Democrats."

Grey, curious and mildly interested, determined to be reassured in regard
to this black barber's former status. He walked slowly by Josiah's shop
followed at a distance by Peter. The barber was shaving Mr. Pole, and
intent on his task. Grey caught sight of the black's face. One look was
enough--it was familiar--unmistakable. In place of going in to be shaved
he turned away and quickened his steps. Peter grinned and went home. "The
darn nigger h