“That's a fact,” Blackburn put in, reluctantly. “Negroes are quick to get at the bottom of things, and with no dead body in sight to substantiate a lynching story they would smell a mouse and hunt for it till they found it. No, Carson, _real_ weeping right now from the mammy and daddy will help us out more than anything else. Yes, they will have to bear it; they will be all the happier in the end.” “I suppose you are right,” Dwight gave in. “But it's certainly tough.” CHAPTER XXVII. [Illustration: 9247] T was just at the break of day the following morning. Major Warren, who had not retired until late the night before in his perturbed state of mind over the calamity which hovered in the air, was sleeping lightly, when he was awakened by the almost noiseless presence of some one in his room. Sitting up in bed he stared through the half darkness at a form which towered straight and still between him and the open window through which the first touches of the new day were stealing. “Who's there?” he demanded, sharply. “It's me, Marse William--Lewis.” “Oh, you!” The Major put his feet down to the rug at the side of his bed, still not fully awake. “Well, is it time to get up? Anything--wrong? Oh, I remember now--Pete!” A groan from the great chest of the negro set the air to vibrating, but he said nothing, and the old gentleman saw the bald pate suddenly sink. “Oh, Lewis, I hope--” Major Warren paused, unable to continue, so vast and grewsome were the fears his servant's attitude had inspired. The old negro took a step or two forward and then said: “Oh, marster, dey done tuck 'im out las' night--dey tuck my po' boy--” A great sob rose in old Lewis's breast and burst on his lips. “Really, you don't mean it--you can't, after--” “Yasser, yasser; he daid, marster. Pete done gone! Dey killed 'im las' night, Marse William.” “But--but how do you know?” “I des dis minute seed Jake Tobines; he slipped up ter my house en called me out. Jake lives back 'hind de jail, Marse William, en when de mob come him en his wife heard de racket en slipped out in de co'n-patch ter hide. He seed de gang, marster, wid his own eyes, en heard um ax fer de boy. At fus Marse Barrett refused ter give 'im up, but dey ordered fire on 'im en he let um have de keys. Jake seed um fetch Pete out, en heard 'im beggin' um ter spar' his life, but dey drug 'im off.” There was silence broken only by the old negro's sobs and the smothered effort he was making to restrain his emotion. “And mammy,” the Major began, presently; “has she heard?”