“Repeat dese here words after me,” Pap snarled. Then the words came in short phrases, easy to repeat: “I solemnly swears on de Bible an’ all de opossums dat I won’t say nothin’ about de doin’s of dis night, now an’ ferever, amen. An’ ef I does, I hopes I may die!”
“An’ ef anybody blabs, I’ll be de nigger dat’ll cause yo’ onhappy end!” Pap warned them menacingly.
“Suppose de white folks ax questions?” Little Bit inquired.
“Dat’s easy,” Pap replied with a sneering grin. “Tell eve’ybody dat axes you dat all us niggers thinks Marse Tom Gaitskill ole house is ha’nted. Dat’ll be aplenty to say to white folks.”
Dazzle Zenor walked over and put her arms around Skeeter Butts.
“You is a brave cullud man, Skeeter,” she told him. “I loves you.”
Skeeter disengaged her arms and pushed her away.
“Wus you lyin’ to me when you telerphomed dat robbers wus in dis house?” he asked.
“Naw, suh, I wus jokin’. I wanted to see wus you brave enough to come an’ rescue me—an’ you wus, Skeeter, an’ I loves you mo’ dan ever.”
But Skeeter evaded her outstretched arms as she advanced again for a clinch, and with a contemptuous wave of his yellow hand he delivered this good-night message: