time."

"Thank you, my good friend," said the senator, "I must be along, to take
the night stage for Columbus."

"Ah! well, then, if you must, I'll go a piece with you, and show you a
cross road that will take you there better than the road you came on.
That road's mighty bad."

John equipped himself, and, with a lantern in hand, was soon seen
guiding the senator's carriage towards a road that ran down in a hollow,
back of his dwelling. When they parted, the senator put into his hand a
ten-dollar bill.

"It's for her," he said, briefly.

"Ay, ay," said John, with equal conciseness.

They shook hands, and parted.



CHAPTER X

The Property Is Carried Off


The February morning looked gray and drizzling through the window of
Uncle Tom's cabin. It looked on downcast faces, the images of mournful
hearts. The little table stood out before the fire, covered with an