THE DOUBLE THAT DIED
Two hours before the mill closed Richard Travis came hurriedly into the mill office. There had been business engagements to be attended to in the town before leaving that night for the North, and he had been absent from the mill all day. Now everything was ready even to his packed trunk—all except Helen.
“He's come for her,” said Jud to himself as he walked over to the superintendent's desk.
Then amid the hum and the roar of the mill he bent his head and the two whispered low and earnestly together. As Jud talked in excited whispers, Travis lit a cigar and listened coolly—to Jud's astonishment—even cynically.
“An' what you reckin' she done—the ole 'oman? Tuck the little gyrl right out of my han's an' kerried her home—marched off as proud as ole Queen Victory.”
“Home? What home?” asked Travis.
“An' that's the mischief of it,” went on Jud. “I thort she was lyin' about the home, an' I stepped down there at noon an' I hope I may die to-night if she ain't got 'em all fixed up as snug as can be, an' the Major is there as sober es a jedge, an' lookin' like a gentleman an' actin' like a Conway. Say, but you watch yo' han'. That's blood that won't stan' monkeyin' with when it's in its right mind. An' the little home the ole 'oman's got, she bought it with her own money, been savin' it all her life an' now”—
“What did you say to her this morning?” asked Travis.
“Oh, I cussed her out good—the old black”—