The justice was out of town, his clerk said, but would be in
his office at nine in the morning, at which time the colonel could
speak to him about Johnson's fine.
The next morning was bright and clear, and cool enough to be bracing.
The colonel, alive with pleasant thoughts, rose early and after a cold
bath, and a leisurely breakfast, walked over to the mill site, where
the men were already at work. Having looked the work over and given
certain directions, he glanced at his watch, and finding it near nine,
set out for the justice's office in time to reach it by the appointed
hour. Squire Reddick was at his desk, upon which his feet rested,
while he read a newspaper. He looked up with an air of surprise as the
colonel entered.
"Why, good mornin', Colonel French," he said genially. "I kind of
expected you a while ago; the clerk said you might be around. But you
didn' come, so I supposed you'd changed yo' mind."
"The clerk said that you would be here at nine," replied the colonel;
"it is only just nine."
"Did he? Well, now, that's too bad! I do generally git around about
nine, but I was earlier this mornin' and as everybody was here, we
started in a little sooner than usual. You wanted to see me about Bud
Johnson?"
"Yes, I wish to pay his fine and give him work."
"Well, that's too bad; but you weren't here, and Mr. Turner was, and
he bought his time again for Mr. Fetters. I'm sorry, you know, but
first come, first served.
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