"If you's going down town, Massa Joe, like enough you better have a cab. 'Counten your foot," suggested Peter.
"You may 'phone for one, boy. No. Stay. I'll not baby myself thus far. The air is warm as summer, almost, and the streets cleared. I'll take a car; but—Shut that door, Peter. I don't need you further. If anything happens to Miss Josephine, or any news comes concerning her, send me word at once. Shut that door, can't you?" he finished testily.
"Certainly, suh;" yet good Peter left it a crack ajar, the better to watch his master, whose actions somehow suggested a different order of things from usual. He saw Mr. Smith descend his own and ascend Mrs. Merriman's stoop, and threw up his hands in dismay, exclaiming:
"For goodness! I do hope Massa Joe ain't done gone rake up all that old line-fence trouble, just after her bein' so good to our little missy. What if 'tis five inches on our ground, and she claimin' it's just so far 'tother way, and the lawyers argifying the money
