Sis' Jane settled in Mr. Buford's bailiwick, joined the church he attended, and seemed only waiting with her dollars for the very call which he was destined to make. She was hardly settled in a little three-room cottage before he hastened to her side, kindly intent, or its counterfeit, beaming from his features. He found a weak-looking old lady propped in a great chair, while another stout and healthy-looking woman ministered to her wants or stewed about the house in order to be doing something. "Ah, which--which is Sis' Jane Callender," he asked, rubbing his hands for all the world like a clothing dealer over a good customer. "Dat's Sis' Jane in de cheer," said the animated one, pointing to her charge. "She feelin' mighty po'ly dis evenin'. What might be yo' name?" She was promptly told. "Sis' Jane, hyeah one de good brothahs come to see you to offah his suvices if you need anything." "Thanky, brothah, charity," said the weak voice, "sit yo'se'f down. You set down, Aunt Dicey. Tain't no use a runnin' roun' waitin' on me. I ain't long fu' dis worl' nohow, mistah." "Buford is my name an' I came in to see if I could be of any assistance to you, a-fixin' up yo' mattahs er seein' to anything for you." "Hit's mighty kind o' you to come, dough I don' 'low I'll need much fixin' fu' now." "Oh, we hope you'll soon be better, Sistah Callender." "Nevah no mo', suh, 'til I reach the Kingdom." "Sis' Jane Callender, she have been mighty sick," broke in Aunt Dicey Fairfax, "but I reckon she gwine pull thoo', the Lawd willin'." "Amen," said Mr. Buford. "Huh, uh, children, I done hyeahd de washin' of de waters of Jerdon." "No, no, Sistah Callendah, we hope to see you well and happy in de injoyment of de pension dat I understan' de gov'ment is goin' to give you." "La, chile, I reckon de white folks gwine to git dat money. I ain't nevah gwine to live to 'ceive it. Des' aftah I been wo'kin' so long fu' it, too." The small eyes of Mr. Buford glittered with anxiety and avarice. What, was this rich plum about to slip from his grasp, just as he was about to pluck it? It should not be. He leaned over the old lady with intense eagerness in his gaze. "You must live to receive it," he said, "we need that money for the race. It must not go back to the white folks. Ain't you got nobody to leave it to?" "Not a chick ner a chile, 'ceptin' Sis' Dicey Fairfax here." Mr. Buford breathed again. "Then leave it to her, by all means," he said. "I don' want to have nothin' to do with de money of de daid," said Sis' Dicey Fairfax. "Now, don't talk dat away, Sis' Dicey," said the sick woman. "Brother Buford is right, case you sut'ny has been good to me sence I been layin' hyeah on de bed of affliction, an' dey ain't nobody more fitterner to have dat money den you is. Ef de Lawd des lets me live long enough, I's gwine to mek my will in yo' favoh." "De Lawd's will be done," replied the other with resignation, and Mr. Buford echoed with an "Amen!"