"O yes, pet, 'tween you and me, he's dead drunk."
A shiver ran through the daughter at this intelligence, and she now felt strong suspicions that Hank Glutter was implicated in her enemy's plot, and the condition of her father indicated that the crisis was near at hand.
"Well, daddy, cannot you get him some way?" she enquired, after a moment's thought, "can't you get some of the men to help you?"
"There ain't nobody there but Hank Glutter."
"Well, won't he assist you?"
"Bless your heart, honey, no—he ordered me off when I was there just now, and said things it wouldn't do for you to hear, no how."
"If you should write him a little billet and ask him, may be he would," suggested mammy.
The note was speedily dispatched, and ran thus:—
"Will Mr. Glutter do Miss DeWolf the favor to assist the bearer, in bringing her father home."
"Now, honey, 'tween you and me," said daddy, who soon after returned in high displeasure, "that Hank Glutter can lie as fast as a hoss can trot. He turned red clar up to his har, when he read your billet, and sez he to me, 'go tell Miss DeWolf that I've sprained my right arm, and can't lift a pound.'"