“Yo' mama don't 'low you to go to her cabin,” said Billy.
“My mama don't care if I just borra a lock and chain; so I 'm going to get it.”
“I'm going to be the perlice of the gang,” said Frances.
“Perlice nothing. You all time talking 'bout you going to be the perlice,” scoffed Jimmy. “I'm going to be the perlice myself.”
“No, you are not,” interposed Lina, firmly. “Billy and I are the tallest and we are going to be the guards, and you and Frances must be the prisoners.”
“Well, I ain't going to play 'thout I can be the boss of the niggers. It's Sarah Jane's chain and she's my mama's cook, and I'm going to be what I please.”
“I'll tell you what do,” was Billy's suggestion, “we'll take it turn about; me an' Lina'll firs' be the perlice an' y' all be the chain-gang, an' then we'll be the niggers an' y' all be the bosses.”
This arrangement was satisfactory, so the younger boy climbed the fence and soon returned with a short chain and padlock.
Billy chained Jimmy and Frances together by two round, fat ankles and put the key to the lock in his pocket.
“We must decide what crimes they have committed,” said Lina.