hab no weapon at all. I jest used de whitewash, laik yo' seen me."

"That's what I meant," answered Tom, trying not to laugh at the simple
negro's misunderstanding. "I'm ever so much obliged to you, just the
same, and here's a half dollar to pay for the whitewash."

"Oh, no, Mistah Swift, I doan't want t' take it. I kin make mo'
whitewash."

But Tom insisted, and picked up his machine to sprint for home.
Eradicate started to tell over again, how he urged Boomerang on, but
the lad had no time to listen.

"But I didn't hab no weapon, Mistah Swift, no indeedy, none at all,
not even mah razor," repeated Eradicate. "Only de pail ob whitewash.
That is, lessen yo' calls mah bresh a weapon."

"Well, it's a sort of one," admitted Tom, with a laugh as he started
his machine. "Come around next week, Rad. We have some dirt
eradicating for you to attend to."

"Deed an' I will, Mistah Swift. Eradicate is mah name, an' I
eradicates de dirt. But dat man such did look odd, wif dat pail ob
whitewash all ober him. He suah did look most extraordinarily. Gidap,
Boomerang. See if yo' can break some mo' speed records now."

But the mule appeared to be satisfied with what he had done, and, as
he rode off, Tom looked back to see the colored man laboring to get
the sleepy, animal started.