e never dreamed this earnest straightforward Yankee
youngster was in love with Margaret, and it would have made no difference
in the accuracy of his judgment.

"Your sentiments do you honour, sir," he said with grave courtesy. "And
you honour us and our town with your presence and friendship."

As Phil hurried home in a warm glow of sympathy for the people whose
hospitality had made him their friend and champion, he encountered a negro
trooper standing on the corner, watching the Cameron house with furtive
glance.

Instinctively he stopped, surveyed the man from head to foot and asked:

"What's the trouble?"

"None er yo' business," the negro answered, slouching across to the
opposite side of the street.

Phil watched him with disgust. He had the short, heavy-set neck of the
lower order of animals. His skin was coal black, his lips so thick they
curled both ways up and down with crooked blood marks across them. His
nose was flat, and its enormous nostrils seemed in perpetual dilation. The
sinister bead eyes, with brown splotches in their whites, were set wide
apart and gleamed apelike under his scant brows. His enormous cheekbones
and jaws seemed to protrude beyond the ears and almost hide them.

"That we should send such soldiers here to flaunt our uniform in the faces
of these people!" he exclaimed, with bitterness.

He met Ben hurrying home from a visit to Elsie. The two young soldiers
whose prejudices had melted in the white heat of battle had become fast
friends.

Phil laughed and winked:

"I'll meet you to-night around the family altar!"

When he reached home, Ben saw, slouching in front of the house, walking
back and forth and glancing furtively behind him, the negro trooper whom
his friend had passed.

He walked quickly in front of him, and blinking his eyes rapidly, said:

"Didn't I tell you, Gus, not to let me catch you hanging around this house
again?"

The negro drew himself up, pulling his blue uniform into position as his
body stretched out of its habitual slouch, and answered:

"My name ain't 'Gus.'"

Ben gave a quick little chuckle and leaned back against the palings, his
hand resting on one that was loose. He glanced at the negro carelessly and
said:

"Well, Augustus Caesar, I give your majesty thirty seconds to move off the
block."

Gus' first impulse was to run, but remembering himself he threw back his
shoulders and said:

"I reckon de streets free----"

"Yes, and so is kin