It did not take long. Stealthily that same evening a tapping came at Aunt Dicey's door. She opened it, and a small, crouching figure crept in. It was Mr. Buford. He turned down the collar of his coat which he had had closely up about his face and said: "Well, well, Sis' Callender, you sut'ny have spoiled us all." "La, Brothah Buford, come in hyeah an' set down. Whaih you been?" "I been hidin' fu' feah of that testimony you give in the court room. What did you do that fu'?" "La, me, I didn't know, you didn't 'splain to me in de fust." "Well, you see, you spoiled it, an' I've got to git out of town as soon as I kin. Sis' Callender, dese hyeah white people is mighty slippery, and they might catch me. But I want to beg you to go on away from hyeah so's you won't be hyeah to testify if dey does. Hyeah's a hundred dollars of yo' money right down, and you leave hyeah to-morrer mornin' an' go erway as far as you kin git." "La, man, I's puffectly willin' to he'p you, you know dat." "Cose, cose," he answered hurriedly, "we col'red people has got to stan' together." "But what about de res' of dat money dat I been 'vestin' wid you?" "I'm goin' to pay intrus' on that," answered the promoter glibly. "All right, all right." Aunt Dicey had made several trips to the little back room just off her sitting room as she talked with the promoter. Three times in the window had she waved a lighted lamp. Three times without success. But at the last "all right," she went into the room again. This time the waving lamp was answered by the sudden flash of a lantern outside. "All right," she said, as she returned to the room, "set down an' lemme fix you some suppah." "I ain't hardly got the time. I got to git away from hyeah." But the smell of the new baked biscuits was in his nostrils and he could not resist the temptation to sit down. He was eating hastily, but with appreciation, when the door opened and two minions of the law entered. Buford sprang up and turned to flee, but at the back door, her large form a towering and impassive barrier, stood Aunt Dicey. "Oh, don't hu'y, Brothah Buford," she said calmly, "set down an' he'p yo'se'f. Dese hyeah's my friends." It was the next day that Robert Fairfax saw him in his cell. The man's face was ashen with coward's terror. He was like a caught rat though, bitingly on the defensive. "You see we've got you, Buford," said Fairfax coldly to him. "It is as well to confess." "I ain't got nothin' to say," said Buford cautiously. "You will have something to say later on unless you say it now. I don't want to intimidate you, but Aunt Dicey's word will be taken in any court in the United States against yours, and I see a few years hard labour for you between good stout walls." The little promoter showed his teeth in an impotent snarl. "What do you want me to do?" he asked, weakening.