“Whut ails you, Whiffle?” he growled. “You ack like you done seen about seben angels or had about ’leven drams. I ain’t had nothin’ to perk me up like you is.”
“I don’t tell eve’ything I knows, Shinny,” she laughed, all unconscious of the clouds of jealousy which had gathered over him like a storm above a mountain peak. “A nigger husbunt hadn’t oughter know too much.”
“Why oughtn’t dey know too much?” Shin snapped.
“Because dey’s apt to lead deir wives a dance,” Whiffle snickered.
“Huh!” Shin grunted. “I’s like a jackass—I ain’t got no year fer music an’ no foot fer dancin’!”
Then he went and loaded his pistol and slipped it into the pocket of his coat.
IV
When Shin described to Skeeter Butts the strange man he had seen at the kitchen door, Skeeter evinced great surprise.
“Dat’s de picture of de man whut borrered some money from me an’ gib me dem spy-glasses fer s’curity!” Skeeter exclaimed. “You is spyin’ on dat man wid his own spy-glasses.”
“Ef you’ll borrer dat nigger’s pistol, I’ll shoot him wid his own gun,” Shin said.