THE HORSES WERE RIGHT AT HIS HEELS
"Is anybody ever see de beat er dat?" he exclaimed.
Whereupon he went through the woods instead of going by the road, and was soon in his cabin frying his ration of bacon.
IV.
BETWEEN MIDNIGHT AND DAWN.
When Aaron parted from Chunky Riley on the hill after they had come from the Swamp, he went along the path to the spring, stooped on his hands and knees and took a long draught of the cool water. Then he went to the rear of the negro quarters, crossed the orchard fence, and passed thence to the flower garden in front of the great house. At one corner of the house a large oak reared its head above the second story. Some of its limbs when swayed by the wind swept the dormer window that jutted out from Little Crotchet's room. Behind the red curtain of this dormer window a light shone, although it was now past midnight. It shone there at night whenever Little Crotchet was restless and sleepless and wanted to see Aaron. And this was often, for the youngster, with all his activity, rarely knew what it was to be free from pain. But for his journeys hither and yonder on the Gray Pony he would have been very unhappy indeed. All day long he could make some excuse for putting his aches aside; he could even forget them. But at night when everything was quiet, Pain would rap at the door and insist on coming in and getting in bed with him.
Little Crotchet had many quaint thoughts and queer imaginings, and one of these was that Pain was a sure-enough something or other that could come in at the door and go out when it chose—a little goblin dressed in red flannel, with a green hat running to a sharp peak at the top, and a yellow tassel dangling from the peak—a red flannel goblin always smelling of camphor and spirits of turpentine. Sometimes—and those were rare nights—the red goblin remained away, and then Little Crotchet could sleep and dream the most beautiful dreams.