rstand, but you are old enough, sir, to know your own
mind. You should have prepared me for this. You will excuse me a
moment." Chad rose and the Major walked toward the door, his step not
very steady, and his shoulders a bit shrunken--his back, somehow,
looked suddenly old.

"Brutus!" he called sharply to a black boy who was training rosebushes
in the yard. "Saddle Mr. Chad's horse." Then, without looking again at
Chad, he turned into his office, and Chad, standing where he was, with
a breaking heart, could hear, through the open window, the rustling of
papers and the scratching of a pen.

In a few minutes he heard the Major rise and he turned to meet him. The
old man held a roll of bills in one hand and a paper in the other.

"Here is the balance due you on our last trade," he said, quietly. "The
mare is yours--Dixie," he added, grimly. "The old mare is in foal. I
will keep her and send you your due when the time comes. We are quite
even," he went on in a level tone of business. "Indeed, what you have
done about the place more than exceeds any expense that you have ever
caused me. If anything, I am still in your debt."

"I can't take it!" said Chad, choking back a sob.

"You will have to take it," the Major broke in, curtly, "unless--" the
Major held back the bitter speech that was on his lips and Chad
understood. The old man did not want to feel under any obligations to
him.

"I would offer you Brutus, as was my intention, except that I know you
would not take him," again he added, grimly, "and Brutus would run away
from you."

"No, Major," said Chad, sadly, "I would not take Brutus," and he
stepped down one step of the porch backward.

"I tried to tell you, Major, but you wouldn't listen. I don't wonder,
for I couldn't explain to you what I couldn't understand myself. I--"
the boy choked and tears filled his eyes. He was afraid to hold out his
hand.

"Good-by, Major," he said, brokenly.

"Good-by, sir," answered the Major, with a stiff bow, but the old man's
lip shook and he turned abruptly within.

Chad did not trust himself to look back, but, as he rode through the
pasture to the pike gate, his ears heard, never to forget, the chatter
of the blackbirds, the noises around the barn, the cry of the peacock,
and the wailing of the ploughman:

Trouble, O Lawd!
Nothin' but trouble--

At the gate the little mare turned her head toward town and started
away in the easy swinging lope for which she was