The Press., 1894-02-08
CH PTER. IL

lSam s annual runaway freaK ndd worried Major Warrington more than anything of like importance he had ever confronted. He cared not an iota for his lost time, nor for his bad ex- ample, but it galled him to think that there was anything in connection with a negro that he could not fathom. In this old negro he had at last found a cunning and mystery that evaded his penetration. Study as he might, no satisfactory explanation could ever be secured. Year after year about the 1st of July his factotum failed to appear, and the place that had known him so long knew him no more for fortnight.
 It was seldom that the major ever threatened a servant. Never before Tn his life had threat been leveled at Isam, who was privileged character about the house. It was not surpris- ing therefore that just before daybreak next morning a knock was heard at the majors window. That individual un- derstood it, and quietly donning his clothes went outside, assured that he would find Isam on hand. He was not mistaken.
 Its dun struck me- Mass Craffud, en Is 'bliged ter go, said lsam.
 "Ah!" said the major, ''then we'll talk it over first. ''
 Isa1n sat upon the steps, the major in his old rocker, and talk it over they did, until 8 pale glimmer trembled in the east. What passed between them no one ever learned, but finally the ma jor rose, and preceded by Isam, who bore pack that gave him the appear ance of sable Kris Kringle, struck out straight across the fence and the fields, disappearing in the woods be- yond. Only the hounds knew when they left, and these tugged at their chains with noisy pleadings, but in vain. When day finally rolled in with stream its master, and the overseer, too much accustomed to the eccentricities of that absent power to worry over his sudden departure, reigned in his stead.
 The path of the runaways led first di- rectly past growth of plum bushes, an acre in extent, that stood out in the open field, q small forest in itself. This was the burial ground, where with out regard to order or system the graves of departed negroes, covered with bits of glass, broken cups, abandoned cans and other treasures of the trash heap, dotted the shadowy depths. These glimmered faintly in the gray half light, and Isam shivered slightly as he passed. The movement did not escape the notice of the major, who smiled grimly as he said:
 "You don't come this way, Isam, when you run off by yourself. '
 The sound of human voice was reas- surfing, and the negro answered cheerily;
 "Yessir. Ain nuthin go'n ter tech ole Isam. All dem n dere is dun boun en sot.
 "And what the deuce is bound and sot?'''
 The majors inquiry betrayed impa- tience rather than curiosity. He knew we'll how secretive is the negro of any class when interrogated in connection with his superstitions. Isam shook h1s head.
 "Lor sakes, Mass Craffud, don you know all bout dat?''
 NO, Sald the maJOf teSIlly; 1T l did I wouldn't t be wasting breath asking a fool nigger.' .''
 We'll" said Isam, willing to con- promise in the interest of peace, "w'en CT sperrit gifts out'p de flesh, de only way hit can be boun ep sot es ter plug CT tree." He stepped in front of a broken pine near the path and examined it crit ically. "Dere's CT plug roun hyah fur nifty nigh ev'y wun dem graves, eff yer knows where ter look"
 ''What do you mean by this nonsense, Esam? Do you expect me to swallow such stuff?''
 "Hitser fac, Mass Craffud. Dere, now, dere's CT plug. sho' nuff.''
 Years before-Major Warrington re- membered 1t then-he had come across 8 split pine from which half dozen of these plugs had fallen and was surpris-