"Miss Slocum, I don't know how to put it, and I don't know what mean
things you are going to think of me"--
And now Mamie began to sympathize with the big stage-driver, who seemed
as much embarrassed as she.
"The fact is, Mr. Francis asked me to see you."
"Mr. Francis is a good friend of mine. He secured the school at
Graniteville for me."
Bailey, grateful for this help, continued:
"He thought I might inquire about a matter"--
"Heavens!" thought Mamie, "does Mr. Francis know about my trouble? Mat
Bailey must have told him!" If her intuition guided her truly in this
matter, it no less truly recognized a friend in Mat.
"The fact is"--he began, and then he hesitated. "Damn it!" he thought,
"how could he say things that would hurt this lovely creature?"
"Mr. Bailey, I think I know what you mean. You want to know why I told
that robber about Mr. Cummins's valise. It has nearly worried me to
death; and I don't wonder you all demand an explanation."
"Don't put it that way, I beg of you, Miss Slocum!" exclaimed Mat,
greatly relieved that she had come to his rescue, but no less greatly
concerned that he should appear in the hateful character of accuser and
informer.
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