"Rather odd that a colored man, so fond of political life, should live out here away from the States, isn't it, Alf?" the captain one day asked. "Wall, no, sah, kain't say dat it is. Dar's er right smart sprinklin' o' us genermen out yare, an' dough we's mighty fur erpart we manages ter keep up good 'sciety, sah. Yes, sah, an' ef it wa'n't fur de cullud genermen in dis yare 'munity w'y de Territory would dun been gone ter rack an' ruin. Caze why? I'll tell yo', sah. De Ingin is a mighty han' ter furnish meat, but gittin' o' de bread is a different thing. In udder words, sah, he kin kill er deer but he ain't er good han' to raise co'n. Yes, sah, de nigger ken plow all roun' de Ingin, an' de Ingin knowin' dis, ginally gins de niggah er good chance." "You work with Mr. Patterson on shares, don't you?" "Yes, sah; ha'f o' dis crap 'longs ter me. W'y, fo' I come yare dar wa'n't hardly nuthin' raised on dis place but weeds an' grass. I happened to meet Patterson in Fort Smif one time. He hearn me talk erbout farmin' an' den he made a dead set at me ter come home wid him." "Are the people throughout this neighborhood very peaceable?" "Yas, sah, lessen da gits 'spicious o' er pusson, an' den look out. Da looks cuis at ever' stranger, thinkin' dat he's spyin' 'roun' an' tryin' ter talk de Injuns in faber o' openin' up this yare territory. Dar's er passul o' fellers ober de creek dat calls darselves de Glicks. Da is allus 'spicious, an' I tells you whut's er fack, I'd ruther hab er team o' mules run ober me an' den be butted by a muley steer--an' I does think way down in my cibilization dat er muley steer ken thump harder den anything on de face o' de yeth--den ter hab dem Glicks git atter me. Seed 'em hang er pusson once jes' fur nuthin' in de worl', an' da didn' ax him no questions, nuther." As the days passed the girl seemed to be more and more pleased with the captain. One evening they sat on the bank of a stream, fishing. The sun had sunk beyond a distant hill, but continued to pour over his light, like a golden waterfall. "Ansy," said the captain, "this is a beautiful and romantic country; but do you not grow tired of living here all the time?" "If we don't know any other life we do not grow tired of this one," she replied. "You are a little philosopher," the captain exclaimed. "I don't know what that is, Captain, but if you want me to be one I will try to be." The captain smiled and regarded her with a look of affection. "The great cities would delight you for a time, Ansy, and then you could come back here with a heightened appreciation of the sublime surroundings of your own home." "The sun has blown out his candle," she said, pointing. "It is time for us to go." CHAPTER II. The captain could not sleep. He had extinguished his lamp, but on the wall there was a bright light. It grew brighter, and then he saw that it was the face of Ansy. A rap came at the door. "Who's there?"