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"Hullo, Stuyvie! I was afraid you'd got the news and gone out in a cab. M'ria, I want my belt and pistol!" "Where you going?" bursts in the lady of the house the spoons forgotten. "Out to San Pedro! It's only three miles. Our fellows are going to drive 'em out of Guadaloupe woods. Ready, Sty? Of course you want to see it. Drive'll do you good, too. Come on."
Say, M'ria, all them things you said was true, but land! how did you darse?" Maria made no reply. She kept on. "Say, M'ria, you don't mean you're goin' to New York?" said Gladys. "Yes, I am. I am going to find my little sister." "My!" said Gladys. "Now, Maria, don't you think you had better go home with me, and see mother?" Wollaston said again. But Maria seemed deaf.
"M'ria," said the blacksmith meekly to his wife, "hev ye tuk notice how the gyarden truck air a-thrivin'? 'Pears like ter me ez the peas air a-fullin' up consider'ble." And so the subject changed. He had it on his conscience, however, to explain the matter to the miller. For the second time old Bob Peachin, and the men at the mill, "laffed mightily at dad."
His nerve was not equal to a direct attack. "I done been down, suh, to see ol' Aunt M'ria Patterson. She taken sick in de night, and I kyar'ed her a bottle of M'lindy's medercine. Yes, suh." "Humph!" said Robert. "You better get home out of the night air. It's damp. You'll hardly be worth killing to-morrow on account of your rheumatism. Think it'll be a clear day, Bushrod?" "I 'low it will, suh.
"Good-night, M'ria!" she sung out, and was gone, a slim, flying figure in the gloom. "Are you afraid to go alone?" Harry called after her, in some uncertainty. "Land, no!" came cheerily back. "How happened she to be with you?" asked Harry. "She was down at the station when I came home from Wardway," replied Maria, faintly. Her strength was almost gone.
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