Late in January a wind from the southeast melted the snow and warmed the air of the midlands so that, for a week or so, it seemed as if spring were come.

One night of this week Sambo awoke the family with his barking.

A strong wind was rushing across the plains and roaring over the cabin and wailing in its chimney.

Suddenly there was a rap on its door.
When Samson opened it he saw in the moonlight a young colored man and woman standing near the door-step.
"Is dis Mistah Traylor ?" the young man asked.
"It is," said Samson.

"What can I do for you ?" "Mas'r, de good Lord done fotched us here to ask you fo' help," said the negro.