There it was... Recovery Room, Belle knocked. No answer came. So cautiously, she entered. The familiar lines of wooden tables met her eyes. The lamps ...bove. The shelves with ointment jars. Perhaps half a dozen of the tables were occupied . . . each slave-girl strapped spread-eagled and face down . . . the miracle rays beaming down invisibly into their scarred flesh. “Yes?” Belle started. A coal-black figure had come out of a cubicle to her right. “I ... I was sent here for treatment, Master. Jobe however, snuck up behind him and goosed him with a cold nose."Hey!"He escaped to the shower as Mr. Piotrowski chuckled at Jobe's stealthy move.After a quick shower, and a change of clothes, Scott grabbed his backpack and prepared to head back to Broken Creek."Tired?" Mr. Piotrowski asked."Yes, sir." Think that plow blade attachment might have made things a little easier?"Scott stood there."There's nothing wrong with honest work to save a little money, but working smarter is even better.. More

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