little money in their pockets, as an idle, discontented class to
revive old political dogmas, and foment new issues, or perhaps set up a
dangerous opposition to us.

"You don't mean to say that those infernal niggers would give the
preference to their old oppressors?"

"Dollar for dollar in wages--yes! And why shouldn't they? Their old
masters understand them better--and treat them generally better. They
know our interest in them is only an abstract sentiment, not a real
liking. We show it at every turn. But we are nearing Redlands, and Major
Reed will, I have no doubt, corroborate my impressions. He insists upon
our staying at his house, although the poor old fellow, I imagine, can
ill afford to entertain company. But he will be offended if we refuse."

"He is a friend of yours, then?" asked Drummond.

"I fought against his division at Stony Creek," said Courtland grimly.
"He never tires of talking of it to me--so I suppose I am."

A few moments later the train glided beside the Redlands platform. As
the two travelers descended a hand was laid on Courtland's shoulder, and
a stout figure in the blackest and shiniest of alpaca jackets, and the
whitest and broadest of Panama hats, welcomed him. "Glad to see yo',
cun'nel. I reckoned I'd waltz over and bring along the boy," pointing to
a grizzled negro servant of sixty who was bowing before them, "to
tote yo'r things over instead of using a hack. I haven't run much on
horseflesh since the wah--ha! ha! What I didn't use up for remounts I
reckon yo'r commissary gobbled up with the other live stock, eh?" He
laughed heartily, as if the recollections were purely humorous, and