come safely through; poor Mingo had failed; if I ever tell of him it
must be at some other time. In the course of her tale I asked about
the compass.

"Dat little trick?" she said fondly. "Oh, yass'm, it wah de salvation
o' de Lawd 'pon cloudy nights; but time an' ag'in us had to sepa'ate,
'llowin' fo' to rejine togetheh on de bank o' de nex' creek, an' which,
de Lawd a-he'pin' of us, h-it al'ays come to pass; an' so, afteh all,
Miss Maud, de one thing what stan' us de bes' frien' night 'pon night,
next to Gawd hisse'f, dat wah his clock in de ske-eye."




VI

"Landry," Chester said next day, bringing back the magazine barely half
an hour after the book-shop had reopened, "that's a true story!"

"Ah, something inside tells you?"

"No need! You remember this, near the end? '_Poor Mingo had failed
[to escape]; if I ever tell of him it must be at another time_.'
Landry, it's so absurd that I hardly have the face to say it; I've
got--ha-ha-ha!--I've got a manuscript! and it fills that gap!" The
speaker whipped out the "Memorandum"; "Here's the story, by my own
uncle, of how the three got over the border and how Mingo failed. I'd
totally forgotten I had it. I disliked its beginning far more than I
did 'Maud's' yesterday. For I hate masks and costumes as much as Mr.
Castanado loves them; and a practical joke--which is what the story