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"Is Josie your wife?" I whispered.

"Nah. She mah own gal. Her ma were Lil. She passed on yeahs ago."

I handed him another peach. After a bite of that, he said, "Dat waren’t bad for Massa Harry. He been a lot worse den dat sometimes. He done shot his own brother, you know. Dem boys had a duel, and Massa Jacob got kilt. It ’bout kilt the old missy. She didn’t last long after dat. She preferred Massa Jacob over Massa Harry, but dey waren’t much daylight between de two of ’em, ifn you ask me. Dey was both hotheaded little boys. But Massa Jacob, he kiss her an’ hug her, and Massa Harry, he push her away, so she saw it her way."

"What did they duel over?" I whispered.

"Somethang. Over bein’ brothers, you ask me. Never did git along. Dey was lookin’ fo’ dat fight all dey lives."

He licked off the pit and put it in his pocket, and I handed him the third peach. They certainly did look delicious, I must say. I croaked, "Who are the Samsons?"

"Oh, dem boys!" He laughed.

"Well, they got you in trouble."

"Dey is trouble. Dey from over by Blue Sprang, theahabouts. Dem boys gonna be hung someday."

"Is there a boy named Chaney with them?"

"Don’ know ’bout dat."

"When did they leave their mules here?"

"Well, dey come through with a bunch of animals a month or so ago. Couple mules, three or four horses, and dey put dem horses and mules up heah, and dey give me fi’ dollars. Well, dat’s enough fo’ one week heah ifn yo is a stranger and Massa Harry don’ know ya. He know dem, so he let dey old horse stay heah, four bits a week. Den dey rode off for a piece, den dey come back, and I say to dem dat dey owe fi’ mo’ dollars, and dey gi’ me three, and dere wagon fo’ what dey call security, and de wagon’s settin’ out heah, right wheah we sittin’ nah. Well, one mornin’, I gits heah an’ dat wagon is long gone, and den about a week later, I see it comin’ down the street, and I speak to de niggah who’s drivin’ it, and he say his massa done bought it faih and squaah, and dat massa, who war from Kentuck and new in town, he show Massa Harry de bill o’ sale, an’ a rifle an’ a pistol and a long knife and a big evil grin, and so dat was dat for Massa Harry!" Nehemiah let out a big rolling laugh.

"Were there two men and a boy?"

"Nah, dey was three or four men. But dey was only two men who come by heah two day ago and git dem mules. They showed me a paper! Ha ha ha! I war a fool fo’ dem! Ha ha ha!" The extortion of funds from Massa Harry cheered us both. I offered him the last peach, but he covered his mouth, gave a discreet eructation, and shook his head. I ate it myself. It was sublime, perhaps because I’d gotten some information, or perhaps because I found myself sublimely angry at Master Harry, the very type of a southern slavocrat villain, and exactly the sort of person Thomas thought peopled the south.

The thing, of course, was to go to Blue Springs. I knew that now. Even if these Samsons weren’t the ones I was after, they might be cousins. Samson wasn’t so common a name; it was less common than Newton, or Harkness. In all of Quincy, for example, we had been the only Harknesses. If someone had come looking for any of us, all of us would have known where to find the others. I briefly pondered persuading Mr. Morton that I needed to use Athens on newspaper business, as Blue Springs (I asked around) was twenty-five or thirty miles east, past Independence. But were I to find my Samsons, then there could be some difficulty in returning Athens to his owner. Additionally, I wasn’t sure, either, that Athens would benefit by a thirty-mile trip or that I couldn’t go faster, in the end, than he. Athens was an agreeable mount in his way, but I felt that I had fairly well plumbed his willingness to exert himself. And then another day of setting type confirmed my own reluctance to proceed any further in the newspaper business. Some other branch of letters, I thought, might be more to my taste. I mentioned this to Mr. Morton, by way of parting, and he laughed and handed me three dollars.