The negro dropped down upon his knees to thank Jasper, but the old man
bade him arise and go about his business. "I would have done the same
for a dog," said he. "Wait a minit. You don't look like you've had
anythin' to eat lately. Here, boys, let's give him a few dimes."
Contributions were quicker and more spontaneous than the pennies that
fall in the twilight upon the outstretched banner of the Salvation
armyist; the newcomer took a piece of smooth silver out of a yarn sack
and handed it over, following the pace which Jasper had set. Tom gave a
dollar and Jim contributed enough to buy a hymn-book.
"Gentlemen," said Sanderson, "when I think a man's done wrong I want
blood, and sometimes I reckon I'm a little hot-headed about it--my
jestice is sorter blind--but when I find he hain't done wrong, w'y I
don't love money. Here, nigger, here's fifty cents, and I want you to
understand you mustn't kill a dog of mine."
With a broad grin, catching the reflection of the silver in his hand,
the negro bowed low. "No, sah, I ain't gwine kill no dog o' yo'n.
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