"Ah done see w'at Ah gotta do wid yo'," Sambo announced. "Ah gotta tie yo' up, load yo' pockets wid rocks, and den take yo' out in de Gulf ah' lose yo'! Dat's w'at Ah gotta do, an' Ah ain' gwine lose no time about it either."
Sambo was in earnest, too. He had mapped out that very course!
CHAPTER XV
A DAVID FOR A GOLIATH
From his pockets the big fellow brought out a coil of stout cord. Without much trouble he slipped a noose over one of Tom's wrists. Then began an active fight, the object of which, on the black man's part, was to make the other wrist secure.
But here Tom developed an amount of agility and a skill in fighting that angered Sambo.
"Doggone yo', ef yo' won't take it peaceable-like, den yo'll get it do odder way."
With that, Sambo delivered a blow that made young Reade see stars. His head swam dizzily. Now, the black man secured the other wrist, making a turn and a knot that would have done credit to an expert.
But about that time something else happened. Whack! A blow from a club landed across the negro's head.
"Who doin' dat?" demanded the negro, blinking and half turning.