glimpses of him in the distance ridin' ole man Hardy's sorrel, like he
was crazy, and oncet reelin' in the saddle. Yes, sar, _reelin'_, as if
he'd took too much. I b'lieve in a drink when you are dry, but Lord
land, whar's the sense of _reelin'_? I don't see it, do you?"

The stranger said he didn't and the Georgian went on, now in a lower,
confidential voice.

"I actually hearn that this chap,--what the deuce was his name? Have you
an idee? He was from the North?"

If the stranger had an _idee_ he didn't give it, and the Georgian
continued: "These two young chaps--Tom ain't right young though, same
age as you, I reckon--called on some Cracker girls back in the woods and
the Northern feller staid thar two or three days. Think of it--Cracker
girls! Now, if'ted been niggers, instead of Crackers!"

"Ugh!" the stranger exclaimed, wakened into something like life. "Don't
talk any more about that man! He must have been a sneak and villain and
a low-lived dog, and if there is any meaner name you can give him, do
so. It will fit him well, and please me."

"Call him a Cracker, but a Florida one. Georgy is mostly better--not up
to so much snuff, you know," the Georgian suggested, while the
Northerner drew a quick breath and thought of Mandy Ann, and wondered
where she was and if he should see her again.

He felt as if there was not a dry thread in one of his garments when his
companion left him, and returning to his friends reported that he hadn't
made much out of the chap. He wasn't from New York, nor Boston, nor