The Mystery of Chance
these rains fell; the road on this side of the Hills was heavy; and I determined to leave the wagons and ride in to-night.
"Now, call this what you like—this unforeseen condition of the road, this change of plan. Call it 'chance,' Byrd!"
Again he paused and his big jaw tightened.
"But it is no chance, sir, nor any accidental happening that Madison of Virginia, Simon Carroll of Maryland and my brother Rufus are upright men, honorable in their dealings and fair before the world.
"Now, sir, if this chance, this chance of my coming on to-night before the Virginia wagons, this accidental happening, favored Madison, Simon Carroll and my brother Rufus as though with a direct and obvious intent, as though with a clear and preconceived design, you will allow it to me as a proof, or, at least, Mr. Evlyn Byrd, as a bit of evidence, as a sort of indisputable sign, that honorable men, men who deal fairly with their fellows, have some favor of these inscrutable events."
The man was listening now with a careful attention. He came away from the window and stood beside the table, his clenched fingers resting on the board.
"What do you drive at, Abner?" he asked.
My uncle lifted his chin above the big wet stock.
"A proof of my contention, Byrd," he answered.
"But your story, Abner? What happened?"
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