“I got to de house an’ it was shet tight, but smoke was comin’ out de chimley. I say: Da’s a good sign. She home; an’ she ain’ dead.... I knocked on de do’, but she ain’ made no answer. I listen to see’f I could hyeah walkin’ in de room, but evvything was still. I knocked once mo’ an’ still she ain’ answer. Den I call to ’uh. I say: Lethe, dis Felo.... I’m on my way ’cross de river, an’ I come after my pants. “Bimeby I could hyeah stirrin’ in de room; an’ nex’ thing I seen,—de window cracked open a li’l piece, an’ my pants fell down on de gal’ry flo’. An’ den de window shet tight, like nobody was in de house. “I rolled de pants up in some newspaper I got to de Dago stan’; an’ crossed on de ferry-boat, an’ come hyuh to de castle to consult wid you ’bout w’at to do.... An’ now you got de whole story.” “And the honor of hearing it well-told by the bold hero himself,” Mr. Amos commented, looking at him with an amused smile. “Man, don’ laugh an’ make game dat way,” returned Felo, with quiet appeal. “Dis thing too much like a tawment to my soul to try an’ joke ’bout it.... How you reckon I’m goin’ feel if Lethe go blab de thing all over Gritny, an’ de members bring me up befo’ de church? ’Tain nothin’ to play wid. Dis subjec’ is _seerus_.” “Then you’re not concerned a bit over the loss of Lethe’s teeth, are you?” Mr. Amos asked him. “Lethe ain’ got to worry ’bout ’uh teeth,” Felo assured him. “She know she gotta look to me to pay de bill for fixin’ ’um. Lethe kin git new teeth; but who you think goin’ puvvide me wid a good reppatashun, after Lethe done spread de news, an’ my name bin walked on by a passul o’ mean-minded Gritny niggers?... W’ich one be de worse off den, me or Lethe?” “Don’t you suppose Lethe values her good name as much as you do yours?” Mr. Amos argued with him. “If she exposes you, she exposes herself. No woman with pride will do a thing like that. She’ll lie to protect herself. And you’ll see that Lethe is no exception.” Felo seemed greatly relieved, hearing this. “Now, da’s de way I like to hyeah you talk,” he said. “Straighten de thing out for me. Tell me w’at I mus’ do.” “Go to see Lethe tomorrow and have an understanding with her,” Mr. Amos suggested. “Tell her you’re sorry, and you want to set things right. Explain your position in the church, and make her see hers as well. And if she cares anything at all for you, she’ll certainly listen to reason.” “Da’s suffishen,” Felo agreed, in a tone which seemed to tell that he was resolved to fulfill his duty. Then came an after-thought: “But I sho Gawd hope dem missin’ teeth in de front ’uh mouth goin’ make ’uh feel ’shame’ ’bout ’uh looks, an’ keep ’uh from goin’ in de street till I git to see ’uh.” “Start early in the morning,” Mr. Amos advised. “Take the day off, and finish up the job before you come back.” A smile of appreciation lighted his face and his voice resumed its habitual cheerfulness.