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ome into possession of some funds of her own in Baltimo',--but to one of my personal friends, Colonel Powhatan Tabb, a near neighbor of mine and a gentleman of the highest standin'? Because, suh"--here the Colonel spoke with great deliberation--"his notes had not been paid on the vehy day and hour--a thing which would have greatly inconvenienced him--Colonel Tabb found a sheriff in charge of his home one mornin' and a red flag hangin' from his po'ch. Of co'se, suh, he demanded an explanation of the outrage, and some words followed of a blasphemous nature which I shall not repeat. I shall never forget my feelin's, suh, as I stood by and witnessed that outrage. Old family plate that had been in the Tabb family for mo' than a century was knocked down to anybody who would buy; and befo' night, suh, my friend was stripped of about eve'ything he owned in the world. Nothin' escaped, suh, not even the po'traits of his ancestors!"
"What became of the bank, Colonel?" I asked in as serious a tone as I could command.
The Colonel stroked his goatee in a meditative way, reached over my chair, picked up his half-emptied wine-glass, sipped its contents absent-mindedly and said in an apologetic tone:
"Forgive me, Major, for mentionin' Mr. Klutchem's name, I have no right to speak of him in this way behind his back. I promise you, suh, that it will not occur again."
As the Colonel ceased I caught sight of Fitz's round, good-natured face, ruddy with the cold of the snowy December night, his shoe-button eyes sparkling behind his big-bowed spectacles peering around the edge of the open door. Chad had heard his well-known brisk tread as he mounted the steps and had let him in before he could knock.
"Who are you going to kill now?" we heard Fitz ask the old darky.
"Dey was iled up for dat Klutchem man, but he done slid, the Colonel says."
"Klutchem! Klutchem!--nothing but Klutchem. I don't seem to get rid of him downtown or up," Fitz blurted out as he entered the room.
The Colonel had bounded forward at the first sound of Fitz's voice, and had him now by both hands. In another minute he had slipped off Fitz's wet overcoat and was forcing him into a chair beside my own, calling to Chad in the meanwhile to run for hot water as quick as his legs could carry him, as Mr. Fitzpatrick was frozen stiff and must have a hot toddy before he could draw another breath.
"Keep still, Fitz, don't move. I'll be back in a minute," the Colonel cried, and off he went to the sideboard for the ingredients--a decanter of whiskey, the sugar-bowl, and a nutmeg-grater, all of which he placed on the mantel over Fitz's head.
The toddy made with the help of Chad's hot water, the Colonel moved his chair so that as he talked he could get his hand on Fitz's knee and said:
"What were you doing out in the cold hall talkin' to Chad, anyhow, you dear boy, with this fire burnin' and my hands itchin' for you?"
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