, what?" they asked.

"Why, what Mr. Moseby said. 'Spec it don't consarn nobody here; only, as
Miss Clorindy's a lady of property, she naterally feels interested in
what happens to oder folks wid fortins."

Clo bridled, and Dolf said majestically, feeling that he had already a
share in her wealth:

"In course, in course; perceed, Mr. Othello."

"Wal, yer see the gemmen was talkin' 'bout de banks--I didn't hear de
beginning, 'cause dat boy, Pete Hopkins, let de punch glasses fall, and
I was a fixin' him."

"Did it break 'em?" cried Dinah, feeling an interest in the details not
shared by the others.

"Only two. I gave him six cracks for each--the little limb!"

"Wal, 'bout de bank," said Dolf, impatiently.

"Yes, dat's what I'm gwine to tell. Mr. Moseby, he said--you know
him--dat tall man----"

"Laws, we know him well 'nuff," said Vic. "Go on if you're gwine to."

Dinah looked reproachfully at her, and Othello continued:

"Mr. Moseby--he said de Trader's Bank had blowed all to smash--clean
up."

A scream from Clorinda brought them all to their feet.

"Massy sakes," cried Vic; "what is it?"

"Have yer got fits?" demanded Dinah.

"Bring de peppermint," suggested Othello.

"Miss Clorindy, dear Miss Clorindy, what am it?" cried Dolf, with a
sudden sinking at his heart.

Clo would have had hysterics, but not being a fine lady, she gave two or
three yells, kicked the table, pulled her frizzed hair, and shouted,
amid her tears:

"You Sally, git my bunnit--quick!"

She rose, and they crowded about her.

"Whar be you gwine? What's up?"

"Git my bunnit!" she repeated. "Ise gwine to York, I is."

"To York, this time o' night?" cried Vic.

"Yes, I is--let me go."

Dolf laid a hand on her arm.

"Only 'splain, Clorindy, 'splain!"

"Ise gwine to git at dem rascals. I want my money--I'll have it! Marster
shall git it. Oh de villin scampsesses! I want my money."

Dolf dropped speechless in a chair, while the rest poured out floods of
questions, which Clorinda was in no state to answer.

"Was yer money in dat bank?"

"Ise gwine to York; get my bunnit!"

They fairly shook her, the general curiosity was so great.

"Why don't yer speak?" said Vic. "Was yer money in de bank?"

"Yis; ebery red cent. Oh! oh! Five hundred dollars--and it's a--all
g--gone!" she sobbed. "I'll hev it! I'll hev it! Call marster! Git my
bunnit. Oh! oh!"

They made her sit down, they explained to her that nothing could be do