red I'll steal yer cotton ter-day," she
said.

"I don't wish no talk 'bout it, Lizay," Alston said. His tone was half sad,
half peremptory.

"Yer mustn't feel haud agin me ef I tells you somethin', Als'on. Yer's been
puttin' cotton in my baskit unbeknownst ter save me some lashes, an' yer
throw'd it up ter me yistiddy. Now, look yere, Als'on: I's been he'pin' yer
all this week, ever since Mr. Buck said yer got ter git a hunderd. Ev'ry
day I's he'ped yer git up ter a hunderd."

Alston had stopped picking, both his hands full of cotton, and stood
staring in a bewildered way at the girl. "Lizay, is this a fac'?" he said
at length.

"'Tis so, Als'on; an' ef yer don't lemme he'p yer now yer'll fall 'hin' an'
have ter git flogged."

"An' ef yer he'p me, yer'll fall shawt an' have ter git flogged. Oh, Lizay,
thar' never was nobody afo' would er done this yer fer me," Alston said,
feeling that he would like to kiss the poor shoulders that had been
scourged for him. Great tears gathered in his eyes, and he thought without
speaking the thought, "My wife in Virginny wouldn't er done it."

"So yer mus' lemme he'p yer ter-day," said Little Lizay.

"I'll die fus'," he said in a savage tone.

"Oh, yer'll git a whippin', Als'on, sho's yer bawn."

"No: I won't take a floggin' from that brute."

"Oh, Als'on, yer jis' got ter: yer can't he'p the miserbulness. No use
runnin' 'way: they'd ketch yer an' bring yer back. Thar's nigger-hunters
an' blood-houn's all roun' this yer naberhood. Yer couldn't git 'way ter
save yer life."

"Look yere, Lizay," Alston said with sudden inspiration: "le's go tell
Mos' Hawton all 'bout it. Ef he's a genulman he'll 'ten' ter us. They won't
miss us till night, an' 'fo' that time we'll be in Memphis. Yer knows the
way, don't yer?"

"Yes," Lizay said; "an' I reckon that's the bes' thing we kin do--go tell
moster an' mistis. But, law! I ought er go pull off this yere ole homespun
dress an' put on my new cal'ker."

"I reckon we ain't got no time ter dress up," said Alston. "We mus' start
quick: come 'long. Le's hide our baskits fus' whar' the cotton-stalks is
thick."

This they did, and then started off at a brisk pace, their flight concealed
by the tall cotton-plants. They reached Memphis about eleven o'clock, and
found Dr. Horton at home, having just finished his lunch. They were
admitted at once to the dining-room, where the doctor sat picking his
teeth. He had never seen Alston, as the new n