Cheraw chronicle. [volume] (Cheraw, S.C.) 1896-2005, 1912-05-16
CHAPTER l.
The Boy at the Barony.

ON the UdIIeu lalluo vi lAS PihS "SooS
whittier they had emigrated to es-
cape the malaria of the low coast, but
this no longer mattered, for the last
of his name and race, old General
Quintard, was dead in the great house
his father had built almost century
before and the thin acres OF the
Barony. where he had made his last
stand against age and poverty, were
to claim him, now that he had given
UP the struggle in their midst.
Though he had lived continuously
at the Barony for almost a quarter OF
a century, there was none among his
neighbors who could say he had
looked on that thin, aquiline face In
all that time. Yet they had known
much of him, for the gossip OF the
slaves, who had been his only friends
in those years he had chosen to deny
himself to other friends, had gone far
and wide over the county.
That notable man Of business, Jona'
than Crenshaw, was closeted in the
library with a stranger to whom
rumor fixed the name of Bladen, sup
posing him to be the legal repre-
sentative of certain remote connec-
tions of the old generals.
Crenshaw sat before the fiat-topped
mahogany desk with several account
books before him. Bladen stood by
the window.
81 suppose you will buy in the prop
erty when 1t comes up for sale?" the
latter was saying.
--s-renshaw nodded.
HE lived entirely alone, saw no
one. understand" said Bladen.
alone with his two or three old
slaves-yes, sir. Ee wouldn't even
see me-"
There was a brief pause, then Cren-
shaw spoke again. II reckon, sir, II
you know anything about the old gen.
tlemar's private affairs you don't feel
no call to speak on that point?' ne
observed.
"All know Is this: General Quin-
tard was a conspicuous man in these
parts fifty years ago; he married
Beaufort"
so he did," said Crenshaw, land
there was one child, a daughter; she
married a South Carolinian by the
name of Turberville. Great folks,
those Turberyilles, rolling rich
"And what became of the daughter
who married Turberville?"
Died years ago." said Crenshaw.
They were interrupted by a knock
at the door.
Come in" said Crenshaw. The
door opened and small boy entered
the room dragging after him long
rifle. Suddenly overcome by a shy
ness, he paused on the threshold to
stare with round, wondering eyes at
the two men. well, sonny, what do
YOU want?" asked Mr.. Crenshaw in
diligently.
please, sir, l want this here old
spo'tin' rifle" said the child.
81 reckon you may keep it-at least
I've no objection" Crenshaw glanced
at Bladen.
"Oh, by all MEANS" said the latter.
Spasms of delight shook the small
figure. With murmur that was meant
for thanks he backed from the room'
closing the door. Bladen glanced In
quiringly at Crenshaw.
"You want to know about him, sir!
Well, that's Hannibal Wayne Hazard.
But who Hannibal Wayne Hazard IS
lust wait a minute, sir'-and quit
ting his chair Mr.. Crenshaw hurried
from the room to return almost I'M
mediately with tall countryman.
Mr.. Bladen, this is Bob Iancy. Bob,
the gentleman wants to hear about
the woman and the child; that's your
story"
"Howdy, sir" said Mr.. Yancy. He
appeared to mediate on the mental
effort that was required OF him.
1T was four years ago come next
Christmas, said Crenshaw.
"Old Christmas" corrected Mr..
Yancy. The evening belo', it was,
and I'd gone to Fayetteville to get my
Christmas fiXin's. Just at sundoWn L
hooked up that blind mule OF mine to
the cart and started fo' home. a mile
out of town l heard some one slosh-
ing through the rain after me. l
pulled up and waited, and then made
out it was woman. She spoke when