“I needed some place fer to git,” Ticky growled. “Dat ole varmint wus fixin’ to shoot me wid dat gun.”
“’Tain’t so!” Button exclaimed. “He jes’ wanted to cornverse you a little about de pest-house plantation—an’ you busted a whole winder outen our cabin.”
“I shore busted it,” Tick agreed. “I’s gwine bust one eve’y time a nigger wants to cornverse me wid a shotgun.”
“Dat wus jes’ a joke, Ticky,” Button smiled, patting him on the shirt-sleeve where a slight cut showed the red. “I was prankin’ wid you all de time. Maw didn’t had dat watch; I had it hid behime de big clock in de very room whar you wus settin’ at.”
Button dropped her left hand down Tick’s arm until it rested upon his wrist. Tick looked, and saw his wrist watch clasped around her small brown arm.
“Did you really mean whut you wus sayin’ in my house, Ticky?” she asked.
“Yes’m,” Tick replied.
“I’m wid you in dat offer, Ticky,” Button said easily. “I says—Yes!”
“Listen to dat word!” Skeeter Butts exploded. “De arrangements is all sottled up—you’s got her, Ticky!”
Tick looked like a man who had drawn a grand prize in the lottery.