The travelers, indeed, needed not to look to the right or the left, for the path of the iron rails led them directly on. Now and again clods of new-broken earth caused them to stumble as they hobbled loosely along. If the foot of either struck against the rail, its owner sprang aside, as though in fear, toward the middle of the track. Slowly and unevenly, with all the zigzags permissible within the confining inches of the irons, they came on up toward the squat little station-house. Thence they turned aside into the plantation path and, still stumbling and zigzagging, ambled up toward the house. They did not step to the gallery, did not knock at the door, or, indeed, give any evidences of their intentions, but seated themselves deliberately upon a pile of boards that lay near in the broad expanse of the front yard. Here they remained, silent and at rest, fitting well enough into the sleepy scene. No one in the house noticed them for a time, and they, tired by the walk, seemed content to rest under the shade of the evergreens before making known their errand. They sat speechless and content for some moments, until finally a mulatto house-servant, passing from one building to another, cast a look in their direction, and paused uncertainly in curiosity. The man on the board-pile saw her. "Here, Jinny! Jinny!" he called, just loud enough to be heard, and not turning toward her more than half-way. "Come heah." "Yassah," said the girl, and slowly approached. "Get us a little melk, Jinny," said the speaker. "We're plumb out o' melk down home." "Yassah," said Jinny; and disappeared leisurely, to be gone perhaps half an hour. There remained little sign of life on the board-pile, the bonnet tube pointing fixedly toward the railway station, the man now and then slowly shifting one leg across the other, but staring out at nothing, his lower lip drooping laxly. When the servant finally brought back the milk-pail and placed it beside him, he gave no word of thanks. The sunbonnet shifted to include the mulatto girl within its full vision, as the latter stood leaning her weight on one side-bent foot, idly wiping her hands upon her apron. "Folks all well down to yo' place, Mistah Bowles?" said she, affably. "Right well." "Um-h-h." Silence then fell until Jinny again found speech. "Old Bess, that's the Cunnel's favoright dawg, you-all know, she done have 'leven puppies las' night." "That so?" "Yassah. Cunnel, he's off down on the Sun-flowah." "Um-h-h." "Yassah; got most all his dawgs wid 'im. We goin' to have b'ah meat now for sho',"--this with a wide grin. "Reckon so," said the visitor. "When's Cunnel coming back, you reckon?" "I dunno, suh, but he sho' won't come back lessen he gets a b'ah. If you-all could wait a while, yon-all could take back some b'ah meat, if you wantuh."