“Now, I always gives my white man a good recommend at de fust off-startin’,” Skeeter continued. “I tells de nigger gal my white folks don’t drink none, don’t gamble none, is got plenty money, owns a big plantation, and hires plenty niggers. When us mens goes home, dat nigger gal tells her mistiss whut I said about her gen’leman friend. Don’t you think dat’s a good arrangement?” “I don’t know,” the young man said dubiously, as they ran into a clearing and stopped in front of a wide-spreading farmhouse. “I’ll wait and see. I like to talk for myself, but I might need you yet.” “I hope so, boss,” Skeeter smiled as he pocketed the two dollars which the young man extended. “You want me to wait fer you?” “No.” “Want me to come back fer you?” “No.” “A’right. Ef you needs me, jes’ ax fer Skeeter Butts. I’s got a good name ’mongst de white and de blacks.” Miss Juan Chieniere sat upon the wide, white portico and watched, as the white man dismounted from the machine. She watched until Skeeter had turned and started back the way he had come. She watched the young man turn and enter the gate. All of this with indifference, which suddenly turned to an interest, which left her gasping with delight. “Oh—Jim!” The Frenchwoman makes the most fascinating sweetheart and the most attractive wife in the world, to all except a blind man. To all the other things which the Frenchwoman possesses in common with her sisters, she adds the charm of manner. In other words, when she loves a man, she shows it! The glance of the eye, the quiver of the lips, the gesture of her hands, these things speak for her and plead for her and pray for her! “Oh—Jim!” she repeated. “I told you I was coming,” was all that Jim said. “But—how did you get here, Jim?” “I flew through the air like a bird, just like I told you I would.” Her hand motioned him to a seat by her side, and every posture of her body, as she moved aside to give him space, bespoke a welcome without words. “Where did you get the airplane, Jim?” she questioned. “I stole it,” Jim answered frankly. “I stole it from the government of the United States. It’s an army airplane, designed to strafe the Huns. I just hopped in, shot the juice to her, and flew seventy miles to see you!” “Holy Mother!” the girl exclaimed tragically. “What will they do to you for that crime?” “I should worry—they haven’t caught me yet. Besides, I’ve got a whale of a lie fixed up to tell them.” “Let me hear your lie, Jimmy,” the girl fluttered. “I’ll be scared to death while you are here, unless the lie is a real good one, and will save you if you get caught.” Jim hesitated a moment while he reached for his cigarette-case. The girl took the match from his fingers, struck it into flame, and held it to his cigarette, thus lighting his face and her own in the gathering dusk.