"Ah shoah do
wish yo' all good fawtune an' health, Marse Buddy," Ezra
quavered. "Ah shoah do. It ain' goin' seem lak de same place--
and Ah shoah do hopes yo' all writes frequent lettahs to yo'
mothah, boy!"
Bud promised that he would, and managed to break away from
Ezra without betraying himself. How, he wondered, did
everyone seem to know that he was going for good, this time?
He had believed that no one knew of it save himself, his
father and his mother; yet everyone else behaved as if they
never expected to see him again. It was disconcerting, and
Bud hastily untied the two led horses and mounted Smoky, the
mouse-colored horse he himself had broken two years before.
His father came slowly up to him, straight-backed and with
the gait of the man who has ridden astride a horse more than
he has walked on his own feet. He put up his hand, gloved for
riding, and Bud changed the lead-ropes from his right hand to
his left, and shook hands rather formally.
"Ye've good weather for travelling," said Bob Birnie
tentatively. "I have not said it before, lad, but when ye own
yourself a fool to take this way of making your fortune, ten
thousand dollars will still be ready to start ye right. I've
no wish to shirk a duty to my family."
Bud pressed his lips together while he listened.
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