"What's up?" Dickie asked at last. "Out with it, farver."
"It ain't nothing," said Mr. Beale.
"You ain't afraid those Talbots will know you again?"
"Not much I ain't. They never see my face; and I 'adn't a beard that time like what I've got now."
"Well, then?" said Dickie.
"Well, if you must 'ave it," said Beale, "we're a-gettin' very near my ole dad's place, and I can't make me mind up."
"I thought we was settled we'd go to see 'im."
"I dunno. If 'e's under the daisies I shan't like it—I tell you straight I shan't like it. But we're a long-lived stock—p'raps 'e's all right. I dunno."
"Shall I go up by myself to where he lives and see if he's all right?"
"Not much," said Mr. Beale; "if I goes I goes, and if I stays away I stays away. It's just the not being able to make me mind up."