He might perhaps have pursued this logical course of thought further,
had not there occurred an incident which brought the conversation to
a close. Looking up, the two saw approaching them across the lawn,
evidently coming from the little railway station, and doubtless
descended from this very train, the alert, quick-stepping figure of a
man evidently a stranger to the place. Jim and Sarah Ann Bowles
stepped to one side as he approached and lifted his hat with a
pleasant smile.

"Good morning," said the stranger. "It's a fine day, isn't it? Can
you tell me whether or not Colonel Blount is at home this morning?"

"Well, suh," said Jim Bowles, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "He ah,
an' he ain't. He's home, o' co'se; that is, he hain't gone away no
whah, to co'te er nothin'. But then ag'in, he's out huntin', gone
afteh b'ah. I reckon he's likely to be in 'most any day now."

"'Most any day?"

"Yessah. You better go on up to the house. The Cunnel will be right
glad to see you. You're a stranger in these parts, I reckon? I'd be
glad to have you stop down to my house, but it's three mile down the
track, an' we hatter walk. You'd be mo' comfo'table heah, I reckon.
Walk on up, and tell 'em to give you a place to set. My woman an'
me, I reckon we got to git home now, suh. It's somethin' might be
mighty serious."

"Yas, indeed," murmured Mrs. Bowles, "we got to git along."