School was dismissed. The children piled into the old Ford, into the old buggies, on top of the saddle-horses, one, two and even three to the horse. The school teachers, young and old, seven of them, left the building. It was time for my examination of Miss Belle Flowers. I threw the rest of my cigarettes to the old negro. "You have fixed the Colonel," I laughed. "With that fence around the grave, he cannot get the mare out for his ride tonight." He looked at me with puzzled eyes. "Massa's gwine ter ride. Just bound to ride till he marries Miss Belle. Come sundown, Ise gwine to open the fence to let him and the mare out. Warm tonight, and I'll sleep heyr. Massa may need me." After talking to Miss Flowers, I told her that I was rather doubtful of her obtaining the life insurance; after I listened to her lungs, I was sure that she was a bad risk. A history of two yeaas in bed fighting tuberculosis made me hesitate. She looked strong and as pretty as a rose, but today, at the end of school, she had fever. We talked it over outside the schoolhouse. We said goodbye twice. Somehow it was difficult to say goodbye and leave her. To gain time, I asked her about Sam. It seemed that Sam went insane when the Colonel died. There was a long story about it. Eventually I said goodbye again at her front gate and promised to call that night and hear the story. There was a full moon that night. She was waiting for me on the gallery, dressed in a riding habit of the sixties, when ladies rode a side saddle. "My Grandmother's," she explained laughingly. "Yes, you have guessed it, especially if Sam talked to you. In 1860 Belle Flowers, pride of western Kentucky was engaged to the Colonel. They rode together, each on a white horse. She wore the dress I have on. I thought it would make the story more real to you if I wore her dress tonight. The Colonel went to war and Sam went with him. My Grandmother was fickle and married her cousin, another Flowers, and when the Colonel came back stone blind, it was too late. He swore that he would night-ride past her house till she married him. Grandmother used to tell me what a sight it was to see him go galloping by on his white mare, and no one able to tell by the way he rode that he couldn't see. She died years before he did, but he kept riding on, just as though he didn't know she was dead. Then one night he and the white mare died, and that was the end of the Colonel. Of course, Sam says he still rides." "He does indeed, but of course that is just his insanity." "Yes, just his insanity," Miss Flowers agreed. "I talked to him today about the patchwork fence he built around the grave, but he explained that he would take a piece down to let his Master out on the horse. In summer, he sleeps up there; says he never can tell when the Colenel will want him. It all seems so real to him." She laughed, as though tense with suppressed excitement.