“Yes, suh. But I knowed you didn’t want me to happen to no harm, so I hauled off an’ come to town.”
“What did you bring all these other niggers for?” Gaitskill asked.
“I didn’t fotch ’em wid me, Marse Tom,” Mustard declared. “I tried to git ’em to stay back, but sompein itched ’em right sudden to trabbel, an’ here dey all am.”
There was a loud burst of laughter from the white men, Gaitskill found his coat-pockets relieved of their heavy guns, Dr. Sentelle lost the six-shooter out of the tail of his Prince Albert coat, and the business men went haw-hawing to their stores, leaving Colonel Gaitskill and Dr. Sentelle to face the rabble of panic-stricken negroes.
Gaitskill’s mind revolved a number of plans before he found one to suit him. Finally he stood on the court house steps and made oration:
“Hey, you niggers! Listen to me: Go to the back door of my store and get your rations for the night. All you nigger men be at the old cotton-shed to-morrow morning by sunrise! Hear me!”
“Yes, suh!” a number of voices responded.
“Now, Mustard,” he said to his negro overseer, “you get all these coons to the cotton-shed on time. We want to get an early start!”
VIII
AT THE GAITSKILL HOG-CAMP
The next morning fifty-five negroes mounted on mules and horses waited at the cotton-shed for Colonel Tom Gaitskill. Their only theme of conversation was Diada.