Jerry, "and he was black as your hat. Names don't count."

"They say colored folks make good cooks, Jerry," slyly remarked Eri.
"Maybe you'd better think it over."

The unlucky victim of chance did not deign an answer, and the minutes
crept slowly by. After a long while they heard someone whistling. Perez
went to the window to take an observation.

"It's a man," he said disappointedly. "He's been to our house, too. My
land! I hope he didn't go in. It's that feller Hazeltine; that's who
'tis."

"Is it?" exclaimed Eri eagerly. "That's so! so 'tis. Let's give him a
hail."

Before he could be stopped he had pulled the saw-horse from the door,
had opened the latter a little way, and, with his face at the opening,
was whistling shrilly.

The electrician looked up and down the dark road in a puzzled sort of
way, but evidently could not make up his mind from what quarter the
whistles came.

"Mr. Hazeltine!" hailed the Captain, in what might be called a whispered
yell or a shouted whisper. "Mr. Hazeltine! Here, on your lee bow. In the
shanty."

The word "shanty" was the only part of the speech that brought light to
Ralph's mind, but that was sufficient; he came down the hill, left the