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'Scuse me!" dat li'l black Mose beg an' pleed, an' de ghostes ain't know whuther to eat him all up or not, 'ca'se he step on de boss ghostes's chest dat a-way.
"Daminite!" screamed a voice. Mr. Luce was dancing up and down on the edge of his hole, shaking another stick of the explosive. "I'll show ye whuther I'm an outlaw or not! I'll have this town down on its knees. I'll show ye what it means to squdge me too fur. I give ye fair warnin' from now on. I'm a desp'rit' man. They'll write novels about me before I'm done. Try to arrest me, will ye?
And in the morning Hiram Look hurried across to inform him that some miscreant had blown up an empty corn-house on his premises, and that the explosion had shattered all the windows in the main barn and nearly scared Imogene, the elephant, into conniptions. "And he came and hollered into my bedroom window that he'd show me whuther he could be an outlaw or not," concluded the old showman.
"Now Chloe had be'n stan'in' dere behin' ole mis' dyoin' all er dis yer talk, en Chloe made up her min' fum de ve'y fus' minute she sot eyes on dem two dat she did n' lack dat nigger Hannibal, en wa'n't neber gwine keer fer 'im, en she wuz des ez sho' dat she lack' Jeff, en wuz gwine ter set sto' by 'im, whuther Mars' Dugal' tuk 'im in de big house er no; en so co'se Chloe wuz monst'us sorry w'en ole Mars' Dugal' tuk Hannibal en sont Jeff back.
"Hope you ain't miffed at me, Jedge, for sayin' I war sorter diserpp'inted in you. I didn't mean no harm; an' say' Jedge, you ask Old Jasper an' he'll tell you whuther he's made licker. He ain't one of the sort that tells a lie, Jedge, an' I hope you'll do the best you kin fur him; an' if you have to send him to the penitentiary I hope you'll let me take half the time.
"What iss that you say?" demanded the old man with a look of suspicion, for his hearing was imperfect. "Surely the water must be boiling now, daddy?" said Elspie, by way of checking the conversation. "I don't know whuther it iss boilin' or not," answered Duncan senior, applying another brand to his pipe. "Archie, boy!" exclaimed Dan Davidson, "you're letting that goose roast to a cinder."
I'd like to do that much fur him. As fur me, Jedge, it don't make much diffunce whuther I'm locked up or not. An' say, if it ain't stretchin' a p'int, I'll take it all, but don't let him know how it come about." The Judge looked at him and his eye was not hard. "Go on, young man. You don't know where you got that spirit of self-sacrifice you can never know; but I appreciate it. Go on, young man."
"Atter he got ober his grievin' spell he 'mence ter wonder w'at Mars Marrabo meant by callin' 'im yaller, an' ez long ez nobody didn' seem ter keer whuther dey seed 'im er not, he went down by de crick in broad daylight, an' kneel down by de water an' looked at his face. Fus' he didn' reco'nize hisse'f an' glanshed back ter see ef dey wa'n't somebody lookin' ober his shoulder but dey wa'n't.
Course I had it all figgered out whut I wuz goin' to do when thet pack o' rascals got caught tryin' to steal her, some of 'em shot, like as not, and I didn't much keer whuther my Pap wuz one of 'em er not. "I knowed where Mr.
Conscience alive, what are we all dressed up so about?" he added, looking at Alf. "So much stile goin' on that a body don't know whuther he's a shuckin' corn or is at a picnic. Blow his head off as soon as I eat a bite." I could see that Alf was anxious to tell me something, and immediately after supper I went up stairs with him.
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