The
po'ch"--looking up--"needs some repairs, and the ca'iage-house must
be enlarged. The coaching days are not over yet, Major; Nancy must
have"--
Chad, entering with a luncheon for the exhausted circle, diverted the
colonel's train of thought, cutting short his summary. For a moment
he watched his old servant musingly, then following him into the next
room he called him to one side, and with marked tenderness in his
manner unfolded the Englishman's check.
The old servant put down the empty tray, adjusted his spectacles, and
examined it carefully.
"What's dis, Marsa George?"
"A thousand dollars, Chad."
"Golly! Monst'ous quare kind o' money. Jes a scrap. Ain't big enough
to wad a gun, is she? An' Misser Englishman gib ye dis for dat ole
brier patch?"
Chad was trembling all over, full to the very eyelids.
The colonel held out his hand. The old servant bent his head, his
master's hand fast in his. Then their eyes met.
"Yes, Chad, for you and me. There's no hard work for you any mo', old
man.
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