"All right, suh, Ah's comin'."
He slid open the door a trifle; the light of a lantern lit on the ground cut its way in. "No tricks, now. Drop whatever you've got, and come out with your hands in the air—or I'll blow your head off."
"Ah ain't doin' no tricks, boss. Doan' shoot, for de Lawd's sake!"
"Come on, or——" came another voice.
He slid fearfully out, his arms raised. He stood blinking in the sudden shine.
From his left two figures closed in, shotguns half raised. "Just one old nigger, Ned; we'll phone the constable and turn him over."
"Lawdie, lawdie! Doan' give me to no constable; Ah ain't done nuthin!"
"How many chickens did you get, you black——"
Tom spoke volubly. "Ah thought dis was Mr. Joneses' roos', cap'n, an' he said Ah could come in some night an'——"
"Why, I know that nigger. Didn't you bring in Mr. Judson's Jersey last month for service?"