The old man's voice was full of conviction. In spite of myself I had a

chilly sensation in the small of my back, and I left him mumbling over

his dishes. Later on I heard a crash from the pantry, and Liddy

reported that Beulah, who is coal black, had darted in front of Thomas

just as he picked up a tray of dishes; that the bad omen had been too

much for him, and he had dropped the tray.

The chug of the automobile as it climbed the hill was the most welcome

sound I had heard for a long time, and with Gertrude and Halsey

actually before me, my troubles seemed over for good. Gertrude stood

smiling in the hall, with her hat quite over one ear, and her hair in

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every direction under her pink veil. Gertrude is a very pretty girl, no

matter how her hat is, and I was not surprised when Halsey presented a

good-looking young man, who bowed at me and looked at Trude--that is

the ridiculous nickname Gertrude brought from school.

"I have brought a guest, Aunt Ray," Halsey said. "I want you to adopt

him into your affections and your Saturday-to-Monday list. Let me

present John Bailey, only you must call him Jack. In twelve hours

he'll be calling you 'Aunt': I know him."

We shook hands, and I got a chance to look at Mr. Bailey; he was a tall

fellow, perhaps thirty, and he wore a small mustache. I remember

wondering why: he seemed to have a good mouth and when he smiled his

teeth were above the average. One never knows why certain men cling to

a messy upper lip that must get into things, any more than one

understands some women building up their hair on wire atrocities.

Otherwise, he was very good to look at, stalwart and tanned, with the

direct gaze that I like. I am particular about Mr. Bailey, because he

was a prominent figure in what happened later.

Gertrude was tired with the trip and went up to bed very soon. I made

up my mind to tell them nothing; until the next day, and then to make

as light of our excitement as possible. After all, what had I to tell?

An inquisitive face peering in at a window; a crash in the night; a

scratch or two on the stairs, and half a cuff-button! As for Thomas

and his forebodings, it was always my belief that a negro is one part

thief, one part pigment, and the rest superstition.

It was Saturday night. The two men went to the billiard-room, and I

could hear them talking as I went up-stairs. It seemed that Halsey had

stopped at the Greenwood Club for gasolene and found Jack Bailey there,

with the Sunday golf crowd. Mr. Bailey had not been hard to

persuade--probably Gertrude knew why--and they had carried him off

triumphantly. I roused Liddy to get them something to eat--Thomas was

beyond reach in the lodge--and paid no attention to her evident terror

of the kitchen regions. Then I went to bed. The men were still in the

billiard-room when I finally dozed off, and the last thing I remember

was the howl of a dog in front of the house. It wailed a crescendo of

woe that trailed off hopefully, only to break out afresh from a new

point of the compass.




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