I have walked all over this neighborhood, and I know that no accident could have occurred without my seeing or hearing something of it." Uncle Isham stood on the ground, his feet close to the bottom step; his hat was in his hand, and his upturned face wore an expression of earnestness which seemed to set uncomfortably upon it.

"Mahs' Junius," said he, "dar ain't no acciden' come to ole miss; she's done gone cos she wanted to, an' she ain't come back cos she didn't want to.

Dat's ole miss, right fru." "I suppose," said the young man, "that as she went away on foot she must be staying with some of the neighbors.

If we were to make inquiries, it certainly would not be difficult to find out where she is." "Mahs' Junius," said Uncle Isham, his black eyes shining brighter and brighter as he spoke, "dar's culled people, an' white folks too in dis yer county who'd put on dere bes' clothes an' black dere shoes, an' skip off wid alacrousness, to do de wus kin' o sin, dat dey knowed for sartin would send 'em down to de deepes' and hottes' gullies ob de lower regions, but nuffin in dis worl' could make one o' dem people go 'quirin' 'bout ole miss when she didn't want to be 'quired about." The smoker put down his pipe on the top step beside him, and sat for a few moments in thought.

Then he spoke.