"Then you're Miss Stewart from Severndale, ain't ye?"
"Yes, and you?"
"I'm jist Jim Bolivar. I live 'bout five mile this side of Severndale. Lived there nigh on ter twenty year, but YO' wouldn't never know me, o' course, though I sometimes drives over to yo' place."
"But how do you expect to drive back all that distance with only one horse? Did you sell the other, or only lend him?"
For a moment the man hesitated. Then looking into the clear, tender eyes he said:
"He had ter go, miss. Everything's gone ag'in me for over a year; I owed Steinberger fifty dollars; I couldn't pay him; I'd given Salt fer s'curity."
"Salt?" repeated Peggy in perplexity.
"Yes'm, Pepper's mate. I named 'em Pepper 'n Salt when they was young colts," and a faint smile curved the speaker's lips. Peggy nodded and said:
"Oh, I see. That was clever. They DO look like pepper and salt."
"Did," corrected the man. "There ain't but one now. But Salt were worth more 'n fifty dollars; yes, he were."