ouse.

6

John stood facing Mr. Braddock Washington in the full sunlight. The
elder man was about forty, with a proud, vacuous face, intelligent
eyes, and a robust figure. In the mornings he smelt of horses--the
best horses. He carried a plain walking-stick of gray birch with a
single large opal for a grip. He and Percy were showing John around.

"The slaves' quarters are there." His walking-stick indicated a
cloister of marble on their left that ran in graceful Gothic along the
side of the mountain. "In my youth I was distracted for a while from
the business of life by a period of absurd idealism. During that time
they lived in luxury. For instance, I equipped every one of their
rooms with a tile bath."

"I suppose," ventured John, with an ingratiating laugh, "that they
used the bathtubs to keep coal in. Mr. Schnlitzer-Murphy told me that
once he--"

"The opinions of Mr. Schnlitzer-Murphy are of little importance, I
should imagine," interrupted Braddock Washington coldly. "My slaves
did not keep coal in their bathtubs. They had orders to bathe every
day, and they did. If they hadn't I might have ordered a sulphuric
acid shampoo. I discontinued the baths for quite another reason.
Several of them caught cold and died. Water is not good for certain
races--except as a beverage."

John laughed, and then decided to nod his head in sober agreement.
Braddock Washington made him uncomfortable.

"All these negroes are descendants of the ones my father brought North
with him. There are about two hundred and fifty now. You notice that
they've lived so long apart from the world that their original dialect
has become an almost indistinguishable patois. We bring a few of them
up to speak English--my secretary and two or three of the house
servants.

"This is the golf course," he continued, as they strolled along the
velvet winter grass. "It's all a green, you see--no fairway, no rough,
no hazards."

He smiled pleasantly at John.

"Many men in the cage, father?" asked Percy suddenly.

Braddock Washington stumbled, and let forth an involuntary curse.

"One less than there should be," he ejaculated darkly--and then added
after a moment, "We've had difficulties."

"Mother was telling me," exclaimed Percy, "that Italian teacher--"

"A ghastly error," said Braddock Washington angrily. "But of course
there's a good chance that we may have got him. Perhaps he fell
somewhere in the woods or stumbled over a cliff. And then