"Why, you old fool!" he roughly retorted, "you don't know what freedom
means. You shall wear a silk dress and ride in a carriage and have a
gold chain."

"I speaks gold chain!" echoed the woman tossing her grey head, "you po'
white trash can't come it ober dis chile wid yer crick-cracks. Jes you
go 'long. I'se got my bacon and greens, an' a good cotton coat. Yer
can't fool dis chile wid yer fine talk!"

"Curse the old hag! Let's try the boy. You! Sirrah! Come here."

With ashen cheeks the boy followed them into an outhouse, while the
Captain flourished a stout whip.

"Oh! mother," cried Netta, "don't let them whip him! He never was
whipped in his life!"

Mrs. Lee advanced a few paces from the back gallery whence they had been
watching the proceedings and called, "Charlie!"

The boy sprang towards his mistress, his captors not venturing to be too
rash at the outset.

"I want this boy for a moment," explained the lady. In sullen silence
they waited.

"Going to buy him up to secrecy," derided the Captain, "but I guess
we'll work it out of him when he comes back. We've got him, sure, and
can afford to wait."