“Yes,” said Joe, laughing. “It must have been a Mink, and I'm going to set a bait for him.” “In all this dark?” asked the printer. “Why, I could stand in the door and crush it wit' me teeth.” “Why, yes,” replied Joe. “I'll take some biscuit and a piece of corn bread, and scatter them around the hen-house, and if the mink comes back he'll get the bread and leave the chickens alone.” “Capital!” exclaimed Mr. Snelson, slapping Joe on the back. “I says to mother here, says I, 'As sure as you're born to die, old woman, that B'y has got the stuff in 'im that they make men out of.' I said them very words. Now didn't I, mother?” Joe got three biscuits and a pone of cornbread and carried them to Mink. The negro had freed his hand, and he loomed up in the darkness as tall as a giant. “Why, you seem to be as big as a horse,” said Joe. “Thanky, little marster, thanky. Yes, suh, I'm a mighty stout nigger, an' ef marster would des make dat overseer lemme 'lone I'd do some mighty good work, an' I'd a heap druther do it dan ter be hidin' out in de swamp dis away like some wil' varmint. Good-night, little marster.” [Illustration: 0052] “Good-night!” said Joe. “God bless you, little marster!” cried Mink, as he vanished in the darkness. That night in Joe Maxwell's dreams the voice of the fugitive came back to him, crying, “God bless you, little marster!” But it was not in dreams alone that Mink came back to Joe. In more than one way the negro played an important part in the lad's life on the plantation. One evening about dusk, as Joe was going home, taking a “near cut” through the Bermuda pasture, a tall form loomed up before him, outlining itself against the sky. “Howdy, little marster! 'Tain't nobody but Mink. I des come ter tell you dat ef you want anything out'n de woods des sen' me word by Harbert. I got some pa'tridge-eggs here now. Deyer tied up in a rag, but dat don't hurt um. Ef you'll des spread out yo' hank'cher I'll put um in it.” “Haven't you gone home yet?” asked Joe, as he held out his handkerchief. “Lord, no, suh!” exclaimed the negro. “De boys say dat de overseer say he waitin' fer Mink wid a club.” There were four dozen of these eggs, and Joe and Mr. Snelson enjoyed them hugely. From that time forward, in one way and another, Joe Maxwell kept in communication with Mink. The lad was not too young to observe that the negroes on the plantation treated him with more consideration than they showed to other white people with the exception of their master. There was nothing they were not ready to do for him at any time of day or night. The secret of it was explained by Har-bert, the man-of-all-work around the “big house.”