I thought I had him once, but the little cuss gave me the slip." "Eh--you don't say ?" cried Ware.
"Tom, what do you know about the Quintard lands; what do you know about Quintard himself ?" continued Murrell.
"He was a rich planter, lived in North Carolina.

My father met him when he was in congress and got him to invest in land here.

They had some colonization scheme on foot this was upward of twenty years ago--but nothing came of it.

Quintard lost interest." "And the land ?" "Oh, he held on to that." "Is there much of it ?" "A hundred thousand acres," said Ware.
Murrell whistled softly under his breath.
"What's it worth ?" "A pot of money, two or three dollars an acre anyhow," answered Ware.
"Quintard has been dead two years, Tom, and back yonder in North Carolina they told me he left nothing but the home plantation.

The boy lived there up to the time of Quintard's death, but what relation he was to the old man no one knew.