"Yo' mus' scuse me, suh, fo' buttin' in on yo' disaway, but mah Missey done tole me to watch eberybody dat hung aroun' dis yere tree. Ah only been doin' mah duty, suh."
Forrester accepted this apology in the spirit in which it was tendered, and assumed a more tolerant attitude toward the negro.
"You live around here, do you?" he inquired.
"Yas, suh. Jes' a little way up de road on de oder side."
"Gardener, I suppose," suggested Forrester.
"Yas, suh. Dat an' some mo.' Mah wife, Marthy, an' me done be caretakahs fo' ole Mistah Bradbury. His house is jes' up de road aways. Him an' his wife done be liben in Califo'ny, suh."
"Well, arn't you and your wife afraid to live alone out in the woods, with bad men all around?" asked Forrester, with mock gravity.
"Yas, suh. We done be mighty afeared sometimes. But we ain't alone no mo'."
"I thought you said your folks were in California?"
"Yas, suh, Ah done say dat. But we done got a young lady liben dere now, Boss. She ain't been dere long, suh—only since las' Sato'day. She's a mighty fine young lady, Boss, an' Ah's skeered dis yere tree am goin' to dribe her away. She done seem jes' fas'nated wif dis tree—hangin' aroun' all de time, Boss."