"Go ter sleep, honey," he murmured caressingly, "go ter sleep, an' Frank'll take you home ter yo' mammy!"
Toward noon he was met by a young white man, who peered inquisitively into the canopied cart.
"Hello!" exclaimed the stranger, "who've you got there?"
"A sick woman, suh."
"Why, she's white, as I'm a sinner!" he cried, after a closer inspection. "Look a-here, nigger, what are you doin' with this white woman?"
"She's not w'ite, boss,—she's a bright mulatter."
"Yas, mighty bright," continued the stranger suspiciously. "Where are you goin' with her?"
"I'm takin' her ter Patesville, ter her mammy."
The stranger passed on. Toward evening Frank heard hounds baying in the distance. A fox, weary with running, brush drooping, crossed the road ahead of the cart. Presently, the hounds straggled across the road, followed by two or three hunters on horseback, who stopped at sight of the strangely canopied cart. They stared at the sick girl and demanded who she was.
"I don't b'lieve she's black at all," declared one, after Frank's brief explanation. "This nigger has a bad eye,—he's up ter some sort of devilment. What ails the girl?"