“I set out this morning to find a faithful, old family servant, whose devotion has never before been questioned; but evidently I have wasted my confidence as well as my time.  Where is Dyce?  She is worth a hundred superannuated cowards.”

“Don’t call no names, Mars Lennox.  If there’s one mean thing I nachally despises as a stunnin’ insult, it’s being named white-livered; and my Confederate record is jest as good as if I wore three gilt stars on my coat collar.  You might say I was a liar and a thief, and maybe I would take it as a joke; but don’t call Bedney Darrington no coward!  It bruises my feelins mor’n I’le stand.  Lem’me tell you the Gord’s truth; argufying with lie-yers is wuss than shootin’ at di-dappers, and that is sport I don’t hanker after.  I ain’t spry enuff to keep up with the devil, when you are whipping him around the stump; and I ain’t such a forsaken idjut as to jump in the dark.  Tell me straight out what you want me to do.  Tote fair, Mars Lennox.”

“I am about to offer a reward of two hundred and fifty dollars, and I thought I would allow you privately the opportunity of securing the money, before I made it public.  Where is Dyce?”

“You might as well ax the man in the moon.  The only satisfaction she gin me when she left home, was—­she was gwine to New York to hunt for Miss Ellie.  I tole her she was heading for a wild goose chase, and her answer signified she was leaving all of them fowls behind.  If she was here, she’d be only a ‘clean chip in your homny pot’; for she wouldn’t never touch your job with a forty-foot pole, and what’s more, she’d tie my hands.  I ain’t afeard of my ole ’oman, but I respects her too high to cross her; and if ever you git married, you will find it’s a mighty good rule to ‘let sleeping dogs lay’.  Who do you expect me to ketch for two hundred and fifty dollars?”

“A lame negro man, about medium size, who was seen carrying a bundle on the end of a stick, and who was hanging about the railroad station on the night of General Darrington’s death.  He probably lives on some plantation south of town, as he was travelling in that direction, after the severe storm that night.  I want him, not because he had any connection with your master’s murder, but to obtain from him a description of a strange white man, whom he directed to the railroad water-tank.  If you can discover that lame negro, and bring him to my office, I will pay you two hundred and fifty dollars, and give him a new suit of clothes.  The only hope for General Darrington’s granddaughter is in putting that man on the witness stand, to corroborate her statement of a conversation which she heard.  This is Wednesday.  I will give you until Saturday noon to report.  If you do not succeed I shall then advertise.  If you wish to save Miss Brentano, help me to find that man.”

He swung himself into the saddle, and rode away, leaving Bedney staring after him, in pitiable dubiety as to his own line of duty.