thought, his curiosity at last overcoming his sense of honor.

Opening the envelope, he took out the piece of foolscap, on which was
neither date nor name of place.

"Kurnal Krompton," it began. "Yer fren' in Palatky done gone to Europe.
He tole me yer name 'fore he went, an' so I rite meself to tell you Miss
Dory's ded, an' ole Miss, too. She done dide a week ago, an' Miss Dory
las' July. What shal I do wid de chile? I shood of rit when Miss Dory
dide, but Mandy Ann an' me--you 'members Mandy Ann--sed how you'd be
comin' to fotch her rite away, an' we cuddent bar to part wid her whilst
ole Miss lived. But now she's done ded de chile doan or'to be brung up
wid Crackers an' niggers, an' den dar's de place belonged to ole Miss,
an' dar's Mandy Ann. She doan' or'ter be sole to nobody. I'd buy her an'
set her free ef I had de money, but I hain't. She's a rale purty
chile--de little girl. You mite buy Mandy Ann an' take her for lil
chile's nuss. Jake Harris."

"Jerusalem!" Peter exclaimed. "Here's a go. Who is Miss Dory? Some
trollop, of course--and she is dead, and old Miss, too. Who is old Miss?
and who is Mandy Ann the Colonel is to buy? I'd laugh, rank Abolitionist
as he is! And what will he do with a child? Crackers and niggers? What
is a Cracker?"

Peter had no opinion on that head. He knew what a nigger was, and at
once detected another odor besides bad tobacco, and opened the window to
air the room. Then he began to study the postmark to see where the
letter came from. It was not very clear, and it took him some time to
make out "Palatka, Fla." The latter baffled him, it was so illegible,
but he was sure of "Palatka," and wondered where it was. Hunting up an
atlas, he went patiently through State after State, till he found
Palatka, on the St. John's River, Florida.

"Florida! That's where he's gone. There are niggers enough there, but
who the Crackers are is beyond me," Peter said. "I believe I'll copy
this, letter."

He did copy it, and then waited for developments.

Meanwhile the Colonel was hurrying South as fast as steam could take
him. Arrived in New York, he found himself in time to take a boat bound
for Savannah, and shutting himself up in his stateroom sat down to
analyze his feelings, and solve the problem which had for so long been
confronting him. A part of it was solved for him. Eudora was dead; but
there was the child. Something must be done with her, and Jake's words
kept repeating themselves in