ng up, the two saw approaching them across the lawn,
evidently coming from the little railway station, and doubtless
descended from this very train, the alert, quick-stepping figure of a
man evidently a stranger to the place. Jim and Sarah Ann Bowles stepped
to one side as he approached and lifted his hat with a pleasant smile.

"Good morning," said the stranger. "It's a fine day, isn't it? Can you
tell me whether or not Colonel Blount is at home this morning?"

"Well, suh," said Jim Bowles, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, "he is, an'
he ain't. He's home, o' course; that is, he hain't gone away no whah, to
co'te er nothin'. But then ag'in he's out huntin', gone after b'ah. I
reckon he's likely to be in 'most any day now."

"'Most any day?"

"Yessah. You better go on up to the house."

"Thank you," said the stranger. "I am very much obliged to you, indeed.
I believe I'll wait here for just a little while. Good morning, sir.
Good morning, madam."

He turned and walked slowly up the path toward the house, as the others
pursued their way to the railroad track, down which they presently were
plodding on their homeward journey. There was at least a little milk
left in the pail when finally they reached their small log cabin, with
its yard full of pigs and chickens. Eagerly they scanned the sides of
the railway embankment as they drew near, looking for signs of what they
feared to see. One need not describe the fierce joy with which Sarah Ann
Bowles fell upon little Sim, who was presently discovered, safe and
dirty, knocking about on the kitchen floor in abundant company of
puppies, cats and chickens.

"I knowed he would be killed," said Sarah Ann.

"But he _hain't_," said her husband, triumphantly. And for one time in
their married life there seemed to be no possible way in which she might
contradict him, which fact for her constituted a situation somewhat
difficult.

"Well, it hain't yore fault ef he hain't," said she at length.

The new-comer at the Big House was a well-looking figure enough as he
advanced up the path toward the white-pillared galleries. In height just
above middle stature, and of rather spare habit of body, alert, compact
and vigorous, he carried himself with a self-respect redeemed from
aggressiveness by an open candor of face and the pleasant forthright
gaze of a kindly blue-gray eye. In spite of a certain gravity of mien,
his eyes seemed wont to smile upon occasions, as witnessed divers little