“What were you doing behind that log, Bunk?”
“Nuffin; I felt sorter tired and laid down to rest till yo’ come along; I was getting out ob patience wid yo’; what made yo’ so late?”
“I have been looking for you; those were queer performances on your part.”
“What oblusions am yo’ obluding to, Harv?”
“You gave that fellow the best thumping he ever had, and then jumped up and ran off like a big coward.”
“Didn’t run away from nobody; it was dem ’leben fellers wid dere loaded guns dat was a chasing me like all creation; wouldn’t yo’ run yo’self?”
“Certainly, if I had been attacked by such a force, but I stayed behind and entertained the other four and there was only the one that troubled you. What became of that fellow who tried so hard to overtake you?”
“He’s dead,” was the solemn answer of Bunk.
“What killed him?”
“Me,” was the unblushing response; “I kept running till I got him away from de oder nine, so dey couldn’t help him; den I whirled about and lammed him so hard dat it was de last ob him; he’ll neber insult any ’spectable colored gemman agin.”