"You can try," conceded Obadiah immodestly. "You are keeping me up. I am tired. I want to go to bed. My legs are asleep from your sitting on them," he complained and then told her shortly, "The place for you to dream is in bed, not on my lap." CHAPTER II THE MISSION BEGUN Obadiah Dale's car was waiting at his home. It stood upon the gravel driveway opposite the steps at the end of the porch. Virginia was seated in the rear seat and her eyes rested seriously upon Serena, who from the higher floor of the porch, viewed Ike, lounging by the car, as from a rostrum. The young negro was attired in a neat livery which gave him a natty aspect distinctly absent when his siesta was disturbed by Serena. Regardless of his more attractive guise, however, he shifted nervously under her stern gaze. He, who ever bore himself, in hours of leisure, before the black population of South Ridgefield as one of imperial blood, was abashed before her. That poise, that coolness of demeanor, that almost insolent manner exhibited at crap games, chicken fights or those social functions where the gentler sex predominates, was absent now. Before Serena, his lofty soul became as a worm, desirous of burying itself from the pitiless light of publicity. "You Ike," she said with great severity, "mine wot ah say. Stop you' fas' drivin'. Miss Virginy ain' wantin' to go shootin' aroun' dis yere town lak er circus lady in er cha'iot race." The girl displayed interest in the remark, but remained silent. Ike climbed into the car and sought support from the steering wheel. In a gentle manner, as if desirous of averting wrath, he made answer, "Ah ain' no speeder, Miss Sereny. Ah is de carefulest chauffah in dis town. Ah sez, 'Safety fust.' Dat's ma motta." At the sound of his own voice he gained in assurance. He had acquired these statements by heart from frequent repetition. "Wat you down in dat co't fo', den?" inquired Serena. "Mr. Dale he done say, he gittin' tired er payin' fines fo' yo'all. He say de nex' time he gwine ax de jedge to let you rot in dat calaboose." Ike listened to this promise of extended incarceration with the casual interest due an oft repeated tale. Disregarding it, he continued, "Ah goes to co't 'count o' de inexpe'ienced drivers." He spoke as an expert. "Ef dey had 'spe'ienced drivers dey ain' gwine be no trouble a tall." "Dey bettah be no mo' trouble," snapped Serena, "les yo'all gits in worse. G'wan now 'bout you' business. Take Miss Virginy down to de sto' an' den out on de river road. You gotta git back in time to bring her pa home fo' lunch." The solution of a difficult problem dawned upon her and instantly she returned to her former argument. "Don' you drive dat caah no fas'er den er hoss an' er ker'idge kin go," she commanded.