idden off in the direction
of the village, one of the stablemen informed me. I had my own horse
saddled, and ten minutes later was riding after him. It surprised me
that he should have acted so quickly; the Colonel was usually rather
given to procrastination, while Rad was the one who acted. His
promptness proved that he was angry.

Four-Pools is about two miles from the village of Lambert Corners which
consists of a single shady square. Two sides of the square are taken up
with shops, the other two with the school, a couple of churches, and a
dozen or so of dwellings. This composes as much of the town as is
visible, the aristocracy being scattered over the outlying plantations,
and regarding the "Corners" merely as a source of mail and drinks. Three
miles farther down the pike lies Kennisburg, the county seat, which
answers the varied purposes of a metropolis.

I reined in before "Miller's place," a spacious structure comprising a
general store on the right, the post and telegraph office on the left,
and in the rear a commodious room where a white man may quench his
thirst. A negro must pass on to "Jake's place," two doors below. A
number of horses were tied to the iron railing in front and among them I
recognized Red Pepper. I found the Colonel in the back room, a glass of
mint julep at his elbow, an interested audience before him. He was
engaged in recounting the story of the missing bonds, and it was too
late for me to interrupt. He referred in the most casual manner to the
hundred dollars his son had taken from the safe the night before, a
fortunate circumstance, he added, or that too would have been stolen.
There was not the slightest suggestion in his tone that he and his son
had had any words over this same hundred dollars. The Gaylord pride
could be depended on for hiding from the world what the world had no
business in knowing.

The telegram to the detective agency, I found, had already been
dispatched, and the Colonel was awaiting his answer. It came in a few
moments and was delivered by word of mouth, the clerk seeing no reason
why he should put himself to the trouble of writing it out.

"They say they'll put one o' their best men on the case, Colonel, an'
he'll get to the Junction at five-forty tonight."

The Colonel and I rode home together, he in a more placable frame of
mind. Though I dare say he disliked as much as ever the idea of losing
his bonds, still the eclat of a robbery, of a magnitude that