"Fine! Dandy!" he cried. "My good Oliver, you are a peach, and no mistake. This is the absolute limit." And dropping the paper he lay back in his chair and laughed till the tears rolled down his cheeks.
"Dat am too bad, Marse Guy. I nebber t'ink you heah it all from dat fool newspaper."
The deep voice made Guy fairly jump. Springing to his feet he swung round, and there was Rufe, dressed in his best Sunday-go-to-meeting clothes, and with an expression of deep annoyance on his ebony face.
"You Rufe?"
"Yes, sah. I come down all de way by de train to tell you de news, an' now dat blame paper done tole you de whole t'ing."
"Not a bit of it, Rufe. It hasn't told me half. If you hadn't turned up I should have taken the next train back to see you and find out just what has happened. Tell me, is Deacon in possession?"
Rufe, somewhat mollified, grinned. "Yes, boss, he dar right enough. He camping in de stable."
"Hasn't got Dandy, I hope?" put in Guy anxiously.
"No, sah. Dandy in de libery stable at Pine Lake."
"That's all right. Now go on. Tell me what happened. Did he come over yesterday morning?"