"What's de news?" exclaimed several, as they turned their faces eagerly towards Robert.
"I hear," said Robert, "that they are done sending the runaways back to their masters."
"Is dat so?" said a half dozen earnest voices. "How did you yere it?"
"I read it in the papers. And Tom told me he heard them talking about it last night, at his house. How did you hear it, Tom? Come, tell us all about it."
Tom Anderson hesitated a moment, and then said:—
"Now, boys, I'll tell you all 'bout it. But you's got to be mighty mum 'bout it. It won't do to let de cat outer de bag."
"Dat's so! But tell us wat you yered. We ain't gwine to say nuffin to nobody."
"Well," said Tom, "las' night ole Marster had company. Two big ginerals, and dey was hoppin' mad. One ob dem looked like a turkey gobbler, his face war so red. An' he sed one ob dem Yankee ginerals, I thinks dey called him Beas' Butler, sed dat de slaves dat runned away war some big name—I don't know what he called it. But it meant dat all ob we who com'd to de Yankees should be free."
"Contraband of war," said Robert, who enjoyed the distinction of being a good reader, and was pretty well posted about the war. Mrs. Johnson had taught him to read on the same principle she would have taught a pet animal amusing tricks. She had never imagined the time would come when he would use the machinery she had put in his hands to help overthrow the institution to which she was so ardently attached.
"What does it mean? Is it somethin' good for us?"