“Nothin',” said Ezekiel. “I reckon he wos ez astonished to see me ez you are.”
“And didn't he send you here to seek me?” said Blandford, impatiently.
“Considerin' he believes you a dead man, I reckon not.”
Blandford gave a hard, constrained laugh. After a pause, still keeping his eyes fixed on Ezekiel, he said:
“Then your recognition of me was accidental?”
“Wa'al, yes. And ez I never took much stock in the stories that you were washed off the Warensboro Bridge, I ain't much astonished at finding you agin.”
“What did you believe happened to me?” said Blandford, less brusquely.
Ezekiel noticed the softening; he felt his own turn coming. “I kalkilated you had reasons for going off, leaving no address behind you,” he drawled.
“What reasons?” asked Blandford, with a sudden relapse of his former harshness.
“Wa'al, Squire Blandford, sens you wanter know—I reckon your business wasn't payin', and there was a matter of two hundred and fifty dollars ye took with ye, that your creditors would hev liked to hev back.”