" After gazing at the written characters with
satisfaction Mr. Yancy made a taper of the letter and lit his
pipe, which he puffed meditatively. "Sonny, when you grow up you
must learn so you can send writings to yo' Uncle Bob fo' him to
light his pipe with."
"What was in the paper, Uncle Bob?" asked Hannibal.
"Writin'," said Mr. Yancy, and smoked.
"What did the writin' say, Uncle Bob?" insisted the boy.
"It was private," said Mr. Yancy, "very private."
"What's your answer?" demanded the stranger.
"That's private, too," said Mr. Yancy. "You tell him I'll be
monstrous glad to talk it over with him any time he fancies to
come out here."
"He said something about some one I was to carry back with me,"
objected the man.
"Who said that?" asked Mr. Yancy.
"Bladen did."
"How's a body to know who yore talking about unless you name
him?" said Yancy severely.
"Well, what am I to tell him?"
"It's a free country and I got no call to dictate. You-all can
tell him whatever you like." Further than this Mr. Yancy would
not commit himself, and the man went as he came.
The next day Yancy had occasion to visit Balaam's Cross Roads.
Ordinarily Hannibal would have gone with him, but he was engaged
in digging out a groundhog's hole with Oglethorpe Bellamy,
grandson of Uncle Sammy Bellamy, the patriarch of Scratch Hill.
Mr. Yancy forbore to interrupt this enterprise which he
considered of some educational value, since the ground-hog's hole
was an old one and he was reasonably certain that a family of
skunks had taken possession of it.
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