When all the details of their plan had been carefully arranged, the amateur Ku-Klux went filing out, the noise they made dying away like the echoes of a storm. Major Perdue leaned his head against the back of his chair, closed his eyes, and sat there so quietly that I thought he was asleep. But this was a mistake. Suddenly he began to laugh, and he laughed until the tears ran down his face. It was laughter that was contagious, and presently I found myself joining in without knowing why. This started the Major afresh, and we both laughed until exhaustion came to our aid. “O Lord!” cried the Major, panting, “I haven’t had as much fun since the war, and a long time before. That blamed Pulliam is going to walk into a trap of his own setting. Now you jest watch how he goes out ag’in.” “But I’ll not be there,” I suggested. “Oh, yes!” exclaimed the Major, “you can’t afford to miss it. It’ll be the finest piece of news your paper ever had. You’ll go to supper with me—” He paused. “No, I’ll go home, send Valentine to her Aunt Emmy’s, get Blasengame to come around, and we’ll have supper about nine. That’ll fix it. Some of them chaps might have an eye on my house, and I don’t want ’em to see anybody but me go in there. Now, if you don’t come at nine, I’ll send Blasengame after you.” “I shall be glad to come, Major. I was simply fishing for an invitation.” “_That_ fish is always on your hook, and you know it,” the Major insisted. As it was arranged, so it fell out. At nine, I lifted and dropped the knocker on the Major’s front door. It opened so promptly that I was somewhat taken by surprise, but in a moment the hand of my host was on my arm, and he pulled me inside unceremoniously. “I was on the lookout,” the Major explained. “Minervy Ann has fixed to have waffles, and she’s crazy about havin’ ’em just right. If she waits too long to make ’em, the batter’ll spoil; and if she puts ’em on before everybody’s ready, they won’t be good. That’s what she says. Here he is, you old Hessian!” the Major cried, as Minervy Ann peeped in from the dining-room. “Now slap that supper together and let’s get at it.” “I’m mighty glad you come, suh,” said Aunt Minervy Ann, with a courtesy and a smile, and then she disappeared. In an incredibly short time supper was announced, and though Aunt Minervy has since informed me confidentially that the Perdues were having a hard time of it at that period, I’ll do her the justice to say that the supper she furnished forth was as good as any to be had in that town—waffles, beat biscuit, fried chicken, buttermilk, and coffee that could not be surpassed. “How about the biscuit, Minervy Ann?” inquired Colonel Blasengame, who was the Major’s brother-in-law, and therefore one of the family. “I turned de dough on de block twelve times, an’ hit it a hundred an forty-sev’m licks,” replied Aunt Minervy Ann. “I’m afeard you hit it one lick too many,” said Colonel Blasengame, winking at me.