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A slatternly negro woman dawdled down the street the following afternoon, and, encountering a friend of like description near the cottage which had been tenanted by Louie Gratz and his niece, paused for conversation. "Howdy, honey," she began, leaning restfully against the gate-post. "How's you ma?" "She right spry," returned the friend. "How you'self an' you good husban', Miz Mo'ton?" Mrs.
"Ef I'se in you place, Miz Mo'ton, an' you's in mine, dat money sho'lly, sho'lly nevah would be los', indeed hit wouldn't. I dass go in t' de do' an' tu'n right 'roun' back ag'in an' go down to dat gyahd an' say de Dutch gal 'ceive de message wid de bes' er 'bligin' politeness an' sent her kine regyahds to de Dago man an' all inquirin' frien's, an' hope de Dago man soon come an' git 'er.
"Oh, you kin 'pend on me, Mis' Mo'ton; fu' when I sets out to save money I kin save, I tell you." Polly was not usually so sanguine, but what changes will not the notion of the possession of a brown silk dress trimmed with passementrie make in the disposition of a woman?
"What den, Miz Mo'ton?" pursued the listener. "Den dey quahumteem dem Dagoes; sot a gyahd dah: you kin see him settin' out dah now. Well ma'am, 'cordin' to dat gyahd, one er dem Dagoes like ter go inter fits all day yas'day. Dat man hatter go in an' quiet him down ev'y few minute'. Seem 't he boun' sen' a message an' cain't git no one to ca'y it fer him.
One day, as she trudged homeward, two coloured women met on the pavement in front of her, exchanged greetings, and continued for a little way together. "How you enjoyin' you' money, dese fine days, Miz Mo'ton?" inquired one, with a laugh that attested to the richness of the joke between the two. "Law, honey," answered the other, "dat good luck di'n' las' ve'y long. Dey done shut off my supplies."
Dat man he ain' goin' know no diffunce till he git out an' den, honey," she let loose upon the quiet air a sudden, great salvo of laughter, "dass let him fine Lize Mo'ton!" Bertha went to live in the tiny room with the canary bird and the engraving of the "Rock of Ages." This was putting lime to the canker, but, somehow, she felt that she could go to no other place.
"That is serious news, Pete," said I. "Who were talking?" But Pete, who was already frightened half to death, grew suddenly cautious. "I don' jest rightly know, sah," he said sullenly. "I couldn't tell. Jes' Massa Mo'ton. He say he gwine sw'ar in good big posse." "I can believe that," said I thoughtfully.
Dey's sho' a voodoo on Lize Mo'ton!" Bertha, catching but fragments of this conversation, had no realization that it bore in any way upon the mystery of Toby; and she stumbled homeward through the twilight with her tired eyes on the ground. When she opened the door of the tiny room, the landlady's lean black cat ran out surreptitiously.
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