office?"

"Yes; who are you, and what are you doing here?"

"I'm name Mink, suh, an' I b'longs to Marse Tom Gaither. I bin run'd
away an' I got dat hongry dat it look like I bleedz ter ketch me a
chicken. I bin mighty nigh famished, suh. I wish you'd please, suh,
excusen me dis time."

"Why didn't you break and run when you heard me coming?" asked Joe, who
was disposed to take a practical view of the matter.

"You wuz dat light-footed, suh, dat I ain't hear you, an' sides dat, I
got my han' kotch in dish yer crack, an' you wuz right on top er me 'fo'
I kin work it out."

"Why don't you stay at home?" asked Joe.

"Dey don't treat me right, suh," said the negro, simply. The very tone
of his voice was more convincing than any argument could have been.

"Can you get your hand out of the crack?" asked Joe.

"Lord, yes, suh; I'd'a done got it out fo' now, but when you lipt on me
so quick all my senses wuz skeered out'n me."

"Well," said Joe, "get your hand out and stay here till I come back, and
I'll fetch you something to eat."

"You ain't foolin' me, is you, little marster?"

"Do I look like I'd fool you?" said Joe, scornfully.

"I can't see you plain, suh," said the negro, drawing a long breath,
"but you don't talk like it."

"Well, get your hand loose and wait."

As Joe turned to go to the house, he saw Mr. Snelson standing in the
door.

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