"Why, I done fetch 'er father here, sir, dis morning," the man went on in stammering tones. "He was rampagin' up 'n' down de Square, askin' whar you was. He had a gun an' was out er his head. Dar wasn't no policeman about, en' nobody else knowed how ter handle him. He sure was dangerous! Seems like he done hear about--well, you know--about yo' ma, an' Miss Jane Holder, an'--an' de high jinks over dar night after night, an' fines, drinks, poker an' all dat. He didn't talk to me, sir, but some of de white folks dat he saw in de stores said he claimed dat you abdicated his young daughter 'fo' she was old enough ter decide fer herself. I didn't want ter fetch 'im here, for blood was in his eyes, but I was afraid not to, wid him settin' behind me wid dat gun in his pocket, so I driv' him over, knowin' you was out in der country at work an' safe fer a while, anyway." "But my wife--my wife?" John all but pleaded. "What about her?" "I don't know 'cept she tuck 'im inside an' sorter quieted 'im down and tol' 'im she wanted to go home ter her ma. Some a de white folks up-town say she didn't know what she was gettin' her foot into down here nohow, an', now she found out, she was glad ernough to get away. One an' all say she is plumb decent herself, just er plain country girl wid good up-bringin'. Some of 'em is b'ilin' mad at you an' yo' boss." John stifled a rising groan. "Damn you," he said, "cut all that out and tell me if my wife left any message for me." "Yes, sir, she did--now I remember, but she had ter give it ter me on de sly, an' I didn't git all of it. She said tell you she had ter go--dat she had stood it as long as she could, an'--oh yes, she said fer you not ter dare ter show yo'se'f up dar at 'er ol' home." "And have they left town?" John asked, with strange calmness. "Oh yes, sir! Dey tuck de twelve-ten train." "That will do." John motioned for him to go. "I understand." The negro turned his horse around and started back to town. John stood stock-still, his eyes on the cab disappearing in the gloom. He had stood that way for several minutes when a small hand was slipped into his from behind, and, looking around, he saw the soiled face and matted hair of Dora Boyles. "Brother John," she faltered, "has Tilly left you--really--really left you?" He dropped her hand and shoved her from him. "Go home!" he cried. "Go home, and don't bother me!" She fell back a yard or so and stood staring at him. "I won't go till you tell me," she said, stubbornly. "I started over here this morning to show Tilly my doll and get her to help me dress it. I saw that crazy-looking old man come in a cab and take her and her trunk away. She was white--oh, she was as white as a sheet, and so pitiful-looking!" "Go home, I tell you! Go home!" John gulped and snarled like a man goaded at once by grief and physical pain. "Go home, I tell you! Leave me alone!"