I'll not forget your message.
Good-by--" and the boy set his horse on a canter down the narrow road.
Throughout the rest of the day the census-gathering was of similar
character, and it was drawing toward dark when the boy saw before him a
well-ordered array of houses which he felt sure must be Bullertown.
Asking his way to the hotel from the first darky that he met, he was
answered most courteously.
"Thar's no hotel hyar, sah," the negro said, "but Mr. Ephraim Jones
entertains the visitin' strangehs, sah, an' if yo' go right on to that
big yaller house an' ask fo' Mr. Jones, sah, Ah jes' knows yo'll be
right welcome."
Hamilton felt diffident about quartering himself upon a perfect stranger
in this way, but it seemed to be the custom of the place, and since
there was no hotel, there seemed nothing else to do, and he rode on to
the gate. Tethering his mare to a tie-post in front of the house he
started up the walk, carrying his portfolio, so that in the event of any
mistake he might be able to make it appear that he had merely come to
take the census. But before he reached the door it was opened by a
wrinkled and old, but dignified darky.
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