turkey an' de pair o' geese you see hangin' on de fence dar, an' de
udder ba'el I jest ca'aed down de cellar full er oishters. De tar'pins
was in dis box--seben ob 'em. Spec' dat rapscallion crawled ober de
fence?" And Chad picked up the basket with the remaining half dozen,
and descended the basement steps on his way through the kitchen to the
front door above. Before he reached the bottom step I heard him break
out with:--

"Oh, yer you is, you black debbil! Tryin' to git in de door, is ye?
De pot is whar you'll git!"

At the foot of the short steps, flat on his back, head and legs
wriggling like an overturned roach, lay the missing terrapin. It had
crawled to the edge of the opening and had fallen down in the darkness.

Chad picked him up and kept on grumbling, shaking his finger at the
motionless terrapin, whose head and legs were now tight drawn between
its shells.

"Gre't mine to squash ye! Wearin' out my old knees lookin' for ye.
Nebber mine, I'm gwine to bile ye fust an' de longest--hear dat?--de
longest!" Then looking up at me, "I got him, Major--try dat do'. Spec'
it's open. Colonel ain't yer yit. Reckon some ob dem moonshiners is
keepin' him down town. 'Fo' I forgit it, dar's a letter for ye hangin'
to de mantelpiece."

The door and the letter were both open, the latter being half a sheet
of paper impaled by a pin, which alone saved it from the roaring fire
that Chad had just replenished.