"A week or so ago my ole woman had a cheese an' a ham an' two whole pies that she'd got ready for a church social just disappear without a word, out o' the pantry winder.

If that ain't the mark of a nigger, I miss my guess." Terry laughed.
"If that happened in the North we should look around the neighborhood for a sick small boy." "It wasn't no boy this time--leastways not a very small one," the man affirmed, "for that same day a pair o' my boots that I'd left in the wood house just naturally walked off by theirselves, an' I found 'em the next day at the bottom o' the pasture.

It would take a pretty sizeable fellow that my boots was too small for," he finished with a grin.
"They _are_ a trifle conspicuous," one of the others agreed with his eyes on the feet in question.
I caught an interested look in Terry's glance as he mentally took their measure, and I wondered what he was up to; but as our messenger and Pete Moser appeared around the corner at the moment, I had no time for speculation.

Terry let his chair slip with a bang and rose to his feet.
"Ah, Mr.Moser! I'm glad to see you," he exclaimed with an air of relief.

"It's getting late," he added, looking at his watch, "and I must get this business settled as soon as possible; I have another little affair waiting for me in New York.