I reckon I can rig up a thing so you can churn with yo'
foot."
"Yas, suh. But whut's de use in stoppin' dar? You mout ez well scuffle
roun' an' fin' suthin fur me ter do wid de udder foot. Look yere, Mr.
Starbuck, ef it's jest de same ter you, I blebe I'd like ter quit dis
place."
"Why do you want to quit? Don't I give you plenty to do?"
"Oh, yas, suh; dat is on er pinch. But de truf is it 'pear ter me like
things er gittin' sort er squawlly roun' yere. Dat man Peters he's
threatenin' ter knock er nail kag in de head an' ring er dish rag an' I
doan want ter git in no row. You Starbuck folks may not mind it, but I
ain't uster bein' shot. He say he gwine be 'p'inted deputy marshal, an'
w'en he sees me er grindin' de co'n he gwine put er lot o' holes th'u'
me. I doan want ter look like no sifter."
Jasper arose, put down his lapboard, shut his knife and with a serious
air said to the old darkey. "I'm here to protect, you, Kintchin."
"Yas, suh, but you mout do de most o' yo' pertectin' atter I'se dun
dead."
"Wall, atter you're dead it won't make any difference.
Pages:
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172