A TALL, STEALTHY FIGURE CREPT AMONG THE trees bordering a cultivated field of cotton, approximately half of which had recently been picked.
He had ridden out from town after his own work was done, keeping out of sight and making his way closer on foot. And now in the light of the sinking sun, he shielded his eyes with his hand and tried to make sense out of what he saw.
The five workers busily engaged in harvesting what remained on the stalks were the object of the man’s attention. What were they doing out here alone? Four of them were girls, one of them far too young to be doing a man’s work. The fifth was a slender young man whose skin color and other physical characteristics bore an uncanny resemblance to his own.
“I been wonderin’ where he been disappearin’ dese las’ few days,” he said to himself as he watched. “Dat boy’s been fibbin’ ter me. An’ I knew dere wuz a suspishus look in dat girl’s eye too. She ain’t been tellin’ me da whole truf. Sumfin be goin’ on roun’ ’bout here. Sumfin dat don’ mak much sense ter dese ole eyes er mine.”
He continued to watch for a few minutes more, then turned and made his way back to where he had tied his horse.
“Me an’ dat son er mine’s gwine hab a man ter man talk ’bout a few things,” he muttered as he went. “And den I’s gwine t’ pay me a visit ter Miz Kathleen Clairborne an’ her young frien’s. An’ right soon! Matter fact, I jes’ might go visit dem termorrow.”