“How come?” Skeeter asked.
“Atter she hit you dat whale across de face,” Figger explained, “I saw her take de ax an’ chop dat battery all to little pieces!”
All is Fair.
I
THE HORSE RACE.
Shin Bone needed money badly. He sat on the edge of the sidewalk by the old cotton shed, his feet in the gutter and his head resting upon his hands, and did the heaviest thinking of his whole thoughtless life.
“I’d rob Marse Tom’s bank ef I jes’ knowed how,” he said, speaking aloud to himself.
Then he wondered if he had spoken too loud, for Colonel Tom Gaitskill stopped directly behind him in his walk to the bank, and surveyed with amusement a number of gaudy lithographs which had been pasted upon the side of the cotton shed.
Shin Bone sat perfectly quiet until he had assured himself that Gaitskill had not overheard him, then a shrewd look came into his eyes, and he rose to his feet. Taking a corn-cob pipe from his pocket, he filled it with tobacco, and edged up closer to the white man.
“When is de succus gwine be, Marse Tom?” he asked, as he struck a match and applied the flame to the bowl of his pipe.