A Negro boy came out
to meet them.
"Is Mr. Fetters at home," inquired the colonel?
"I--_I_ don' know, suh--I--I'll ax Mars' Turner. _He's_ hyuh."
He disappeared round the house and in a few minutes returned with
Turner, with whom the colonel exchanged curt nods.
"I wish to see Mr. Fetters," said the colonel.
"Well, you can't see him."
"Why not?"
"Because he ain't here. He left for the capital this mornin', to be
gone a week. You'll be havin' a fine drive, down here and back."
The colonel ignored the taunt.
"When will Mr. Fetters return?" he inquired.
"I'm shore I don't know. He don't tell me his secrets. But I'll tell
_you_, Colonel French, that if you're after that nigger, you're
wastin' your time. He's in Haines's gang, and Haines loves him so well
that Mr. Fetters has to keep Bud in order to keep Haines. There's no
accountin' for these vi'lent affections, but they're human natur', and
they have to be 'umoured."
"I'll talk to your _master_," rejoined the colonel, restraining his
indignation and turning away.
Turner looked after him vindictively.
"He'll talk to my _master_, like as if I was a nigger! It'll be a long
time before he talks to Fetters, if that's who he means--if I can
prevent it. Not that it would make any difference, but I'll just keep
him on the anxious seat."
It was nearing noon, but the colonel had received no invitation to
stop, or eat, or feed his horses. He ordered Sam to turn and drive
back the way they had come.
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