“It is unfair,” Dorothy said, warmly. “Fifty dollars is a lot of money. Can’t we postpone our trip and go to court with this man?”
“Goodness, Dot!” exclaimed her aunt, who heard this. “Our berths are engaged upon that train. We positively cannot wait here. Of course the cow isn’t worth so much as this man asks——”
At that moment a dilapidated figure shuffled into the radiance of the automobile lights. It was an ancient darkey, with kinky gray wool, and he took off his ragged hat as he asked:
“Ebenin’, genmen an’ ladies. Is yo’ seed anythin’ ob my cow? She done strayed erway ag’in, an’ I’s powerful anxious ter recover her—ya-as, suh!”
“Another cow!” groaned Nat. “The owner of that pet deer will be around next.”
“What kind of a cow was it?” asked Tavia, giggling.
“Jes’ a cow, Ma’am,” said the old darkey. “Jes’ a ord’nary ornery cow, Ma’am. Ebenin’, Mars’ Judson,” he added, seeing the farmer for the first time. “Has you seed my cow?”
“Naw, I ain’t,” snapped the farmer.
Here Dorothy Dale suddenly broke into the inquiry meeting. “Did your cow have a big white patch on her left shoulder, and is she otherwise a red cow?” asked the girl.
“Ya-as’m. That suah is my cow.”