John Valiant lifted his hand to stroke the shapely head, then drew it back with an exclamation. A thorn had pricked his thumb. He looked down and saw the draggled flower thrust through the twist [Pg 72]of grass. “Oh, pup of wonders!” he exclaimed. “Where did you get that rose?” Chum sat up and wagged his tail, for his master’s tone, instead of ridicule, held a dawning delight. Perhaps the thing had not been intended as a disgrace after all! As the careful hand drew the misused blossom tenderly from its tether, he barked joyously with recovered spirits. With the first sight of the decoration Valiant had had a sudden memory of a splotch of vivid red against the belted gray-blue of a gown. He grinned appreciatively. “And I warned her,” he chuckled. “Told her not to be afraid!” He dusted the blossom painstakingly with his handkerchief and held it to his face—a live brilliant thing, breathing musk-odors of the mid-moon of paradise. A long time he sat, while the dog dozed and yawned on the shiny cushion beside him. Gradually the clover-breeze fainted and the lengthening shadows dipped their fingers into indigo. On the far amethystine peaks of the Blue Ridge leaned milky-breasted clouds through which the sun sifted in wide bars. A blackbird began to flute from some near-by tree and across the low stone wall he heard a feathery whir. Of a sudden Chum sat up and barked in earnest. Turning his head, his master saw approaching a dilapidated hack with side-lanterns like great goggles and decrepit and palsied curtains. It was [Pg 73]drawn by a lean mustard-tinted mule, and on its front seat sat a colored man of uncertain age, whose hunched vertebr and outward-crooked arms gave him a curious expression of replete and bulbous inquiry. Abreast of the car he removed a moth-eaten cap. “Evenin’, suh,” he said,—“evenin’, evenin’.” “Howdy do,” returned the other amiably. “Ah reck’n yo’-all done had er breck-down wid dat machine-thing dar. Spec’ er graveyahd rabbit done cross yo’ pahf. Yo’ been hyuh ’bout er hour, ain’ yo’?” “Nearer three,” said Valiant cheerfully, “but the view’s worth it.” A hoarse titter came from the conveyance, which gave forth sundry creakings of leather. “Huyh! Huyh! Dat’s so, suh. Dat’s so! Hm-m. Reck’n Ah’ll be gittin’ erlong back.” He clucked to the mule and proceeded to turn the vehicle round. “Hold on,” cried John Valiant. “I thought you were bound in the other direction.” “No, suh. Ah’m gwine back whah I come f’om. Ah jus’ druv out hyuh ’case Miss Shirley done met me, en she say, ‘Unc’ Jeffe’son, yo’ go ’treckly out de Red Road, ’case er gemman done got stalled-ed.’” “Oh—Miss Shirley. She told you, did she? What did you say her first name was?” “Dat’s huh fus’ name, Miss Shirley. Yas, suh! [Pg 74]Miss Shirley done said f’ me ter come en git de gemman whut—whut kinder dawg is yo’ got dar?” “It’s a bulldog. Can you give me a lift? I’ve got that small trunk and—”