ith me," said the young lady,
lifting her searching eyes, after a pause, to the Colonel's, "though
he was awful shy, and allowed that you didn't know him from Adam--or
even suspected his existence. But I said, 'That's just where you slip
up, Hiram; a pow'ful man like the Colonel knows everything--and I've
seen it in his eye.' Lordy!" she continued, with a laugh, leaning
forward over her parasol, as her eyes again sought the Colonel's,
"don't you remember when you asked me if I loved that old Hotchkiss,
and I told you 'That's tellin',' and you looked at me, Lordy! I knew
_then_ you suspected there was a Hiram _somewhere_--as good as if I'd
told you. Now, you, jest get up, Hiram, and give the Colonel a good
handshake. For if it wasn't for _him_ and _his_ searchin' ways, and
_his_ awful power of language, I wouldn't hev got that four thousand
dollars out o' that flirty fool Hotchkiss--enough to buy a farm, so as
you and me could get married! That's what you owe to _him_. Don't
stand there like a stuck fool starin' at him. He won't eat you--though
he's killed many a better man. Come, have _I_ got to do _all_ the
kissin'!"

It is of record that the Colonel bowed so courteously and so
profoundly that he managed not merely to evade the proffered hand of
the shy Hiram, but to only lightly touch the franker and more
impulsive fingertips of the gentle Zaidee. "I--er--offer my sincerest
congratulations--though I think you--er--overestimate--my--er--powers
of penetration. Unfortunately, a pressing engagement, which may oblige
me also to leave town to-night, forbids my saying more. I
have--er--left the--er--business settlement of this--er--case in the
hands of the lawyers who do my office-work, and who will show you
every attention. And now let me wish you a very good afternoon."

Nevertheless, the Colonel returned to his private room, and it was
nearly twilight when the faithful Jim entered, to find him sitting
meditatively before his desk. "'Fo' God! Kernel--I hope dey ain't
nuffin de matter, but you's lookin' mightly solemn! I ain't seen you
look dat way, Kernel, since de day pooh Marse Stryker was fetched home
shot froo de head."

"Hand me down the whiskey, Jim," said the Colonel, rising slowly.

The negro flew to the closet joyfully, and brought out the bottle. The
Colonel poured out a glass of the spirit and drank it with his old
deliberation.

"You're quite right, Jim," he said, putting down his glass, "but
I'm--er--ge