Holton was enjoying this. "You see," he said, "he won't open it for nobody. Not even for th' man as owns it an' th' mare behind it."
"Give me the key!" said Frank.
"De key—de key—" Neb stammered.
"I said the key!"
The old negro advanced pitifully. "Fo' de lawd, Marse Frank, I hasn't got it!"
"He'd guard it with his life!" said Holton, with deep sarcasm.
"Where is it?" Frank demanded.
"In dar," said Neb, and pointed to the stable.
Layson, astonished and annoyed beyond the power of words by the old negro's strange performance, fearful of the safety of his mare, entirely puzzled, sprang toward the stable window and was about to pull himself up by the ledge so that he might look in.
Neb seized him and pulled him from the aperture with a desperate agility which strained his aged limbs. "Fo' de Lawd's sake, now, Marse Frank," he cried, "don't yo' dare look t'rough dat stable winder!"