The page stood by the library door, calling. He sprang to his feet, brought back to a consciousness of the present with galvanic suddenness. He turned, bewildered for an instant, and then walked slowly toward the boy. "What is it?" he asked. "A man wants to see you, sir, down at the front door. A colored man...." Jarvis waited for no more. He hurried down the oaken stairway, out through the vestibule, and hatless, breathless--relieved to a great extent from his tension--he caught the hand of faithful Rusty Snow. "Lawd be praised!" murmured that jubilant henchman. "I done thought he might beat me to it!" "What do you mean, Rusty? Why didn't you come inside?" "Dat cop at de door wouldn't let no darky come in. I want to talk to you right away, Marse Warren. Right away quick." Jarvis turned about, with a direction to await him. He hurried to the coat-room, caught up his light overcoat and hat, and rushed out through the door. Rusty helped him into the garment, with fingers tremulous with joy at the renewal of this familiar and loving task. "Come, we'll go down the side street. I've given up my apartment, and there's no place to talk but the sidewalk. What did your telegram mean, Rusty?" "Well, sah, jest what it said. I done followed dat man all de way from Meadow Green to de Manhattan Hotel, dat's what it mean." Jarvis stopped and, with eyes dilating, looked Rusty full in the face. "Jim Marcum in New York? What can he be doing here?" Rusty chuckled. "Me--oh--my, boss, but dat's jest what I thought at fust. But now I knows. I spent all my time an' all de money I could beg offen de major tryin' to snoop aroun' dem gin-mills down home to l'arn. An' it wasn't ontel yestiddy afternoon dat I seen dis yere Marcum come galloping down on hossback, wid some poh white trash moonshiner ridin' wid 'im. Dey goes right to de depoh an' jumps offen de hosses. I wuz in Eph Black's saloon, but dar ain't nuffin missin' me. I walks over to de station agent's winder an' I sees dis Marcum wid a roll o' bills dat would choke a hoss. He buys a ticket, an' den he goes down de patform. I axes Hen Barrows, de agent, where dat man goin'. He says Noo York. Den I is satisfied. I jest walks down de track to de junction, by de water tank." "Hurry up, Rusty. What about Marcum?" was Warren's impatient interjection. "Wall, I sees dis yere man with 'im watchin' de platform--an' wen de train pull in, inter it Marcum goes. She alluz slows up at de sidin'--cause dere's a junction, an' so I jumps 'er, at de hind platform. Well, Marse Warren, dat man he's on de train. It's only day coaches ontel we gets to Lueyville, an' I walks from de Jim Crow car through de train just onct. Dis Marcum he don't recollect me,--I'm just a darky to him. But I sees 'im a-workin' in his seat wid som'pin dat shows he recollects you, sah." "What was that, Rusty?" "He was a-oilin' a gun--an' you know who dat gun is for. He'll be a-lookin' for you, Marse Warren."