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When Carpenter asked what he meant, he explained, "Dey'll plant dynamite in de place vere you are, or dey'll fake up some letters to show you been plannin' violence." "And do people believe such things?" asked Carpenter. "Believe dem?" cried Korwsky. "If dey see it in de papers, dey believe it sure dey do!"
"Her comes yer white nigger," she said, in a loud whisper, "and I's boun' to gaffer de las' news;" and putting on a demure face, she accosted the neatly-appareled child. "Specs ye're a stranger in dese yer parts. What's yer name?" "Tidy; what's yourn?" was the ready response. "Dey calls me France. Dey don't stop to place fandangles on to names here. Specs dey'll call YOU Ti."
You k'n go roun' yer an' sass deze w'ite people, an' maybe dey'll stan' it, but w'en you come a-slingin' yo' jaw at a man w'at wuz gray w'en de fahmin' days gin out, you better go an' git yo' hide greased." "What's the matter, old man?" asked a sympathizing policeman. "Nothin', boss, 'ceppin I ain't gwineter hav' no nigger chillun a hoopin' an' a hollerin' at me w'en I'm gwine long de streets."
If you wish, I'll take you into my own service, and pay you good wages." "Done, by golly; and when dey cotch us, dey'll cotch a weasel asleep." "But haven't you a wife and children?" "Oh, yah. I'se got a wife, an' I'se got a lot ob chillen somewhar in de 'Fed'racy; but I'll come wid you uns bime by, an' gedder up all I can fine.
We'll get it the first thing in the morning before anybody else snaps it up, and then, when could we get in to see Jim? Would they let us in after my office hours or would we have to wait till Sunday? You look after that will you? I might get off at four o'clock if that's not too late." "Dey'll let us in on Sunday ef you ask, I reckon," said Sam much moved. "But it's awful dark in prison.
She then greased both halves of the pan, filled them with batter, reclamped the iron and thrust it again into the fire. This she did several times until the dish was almost filled with delicious-smelling waffles. "Guess dey'll suit de Cun'l," she said to herself. "He's mighty fond of waffles, he shur' is. An' Missie Jean is, too, fo' dat matter. I wonder what's keepin' dem.
"Whar's de use ob jumpin'? Dem yere fellers'll soon be back, coz dey ain't agwine to cotch dat man nohow. He can run like a streak o' sunshine, and likes as not dey'll all get shot. You'd better go on and coax 'em to come back while I stay here and waits fur ye." In answer to this, Leslie heard some angry muttering and mumbling, but could distinguish no words.
"Doan yo' worry 'bout dem, chile," the old woman replied. "Dey's well able to take care of demselves. Yo' might hab reason to be anxious if yo' daddy was alone. But he's got Mistah Dane wif him, an' dat young man knows de woods better'n I used to know my cookin'-stove in Ol' Connec. No, yo' needn't worry one bit. Dey'll turn up all right, 'specially when dey's good an' hungry; dat's jes like men."
Considerably flurried by the husky words of his sable friend, Lieutenant Canfield arose and walked stealthily toward the clearing to satisfy himself in regard to the cause of the negro's excessive fear. "Be keerful, or dey'll see you," admonished the latter, following several yards behind.
Upson's dogs, dey'll trace me plum hyear; an' wat I is ter do I dunno; I jes prays constunt ter de Lord. He'll he'p me, I reckon, caze I prays tree times eby day, an' den in 'tween times." "Is your name Brer Dan'l?" asked Dumps, who remembered Uncle Bob's story of Daniel's praying three times a day. "No, honey, my name's Pomp; but den I'm er prayin' man, des same ez Danl' wuz."
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