chool land. Here
Johnson, the "faithful nigger," was of incalculable assistance. He was
among the first to hear the call for prospective tenants.

The meeting was in the big room of Zora's house, and Aunt Rachel came
early with her cheery voice and smile which faded so quickly to lines of
sorrow and despair, and then twinkled back again. After her hobbled old
Sykes. Fully a half-hour later Rob hurried in.

"Johnson," he informed the others, "has sneaked over to Cresswell's to
tell of this meeting. We ought to beat that nigger up." But Zora asked
him about the new baby, and he was soon deep in child-lore. Higgins and
Sanders came together--dirty, apologetic, and furtive. Then came
Johnson.

"How do, Miss Zora--Mr. Alwyn, I sure is glad to see you, sir. Well, if
there ain't Aunt Rachel! looking as young as ever. And Higgins, you
scamp--Ah, Mr. Sanders--well, gentlemen and ladies, this sure is gwine
to be a good cotton season. I remember--" And he ran on endlessly, now
to this one, now to that, now to all, his little eyes all the while
dancing insinuatingly here and there. About nine o'clock a buggy drove
up and Carter and Simpson came in--Carter, a silent, strong-faced, brown
laborer, who listened and looked, and Simpson, a worried nervous man,
who sat still with difficulty and commenced many sentences but did not
finish them. Alwyn looked at his watch and at Zora, but she gave no sign
until they heard a rollicking song outside and Tylor burst into the
room. He was nearly seven feet high and broad-shouldered, yellow, with
curling hair and laughing brown eyes. He was chewing an enormous quid of
tobacco, the juice of which he distributed generously, and had had just
liquor enough to make him jolly. His entrance was a breeze and a roar.

Alwyn then undertook to explain the land scheme.

"It is the best land in the county--"

"When it's cl'ared," interrupted Johnson, and Simpson looked alarmed.

"It is partially cleared," continued Alwyn, "and our plan is to sell off
small twenty-acre farms--"

"You can't do nothing on twenty acres--" began Johnson, but Tylor laid
his huge hand right over his mouth and said briefly:

"Shut up!"

Alwyn started again: "We shall sell a few twenty-acre farms but keep one
central plantation of one hundred acres for the school. Here Miss Zora
will carry on her work and the school will run a model farm with your
help. We want to centre here agencies to make life better. We want all
sorts