“Ah ain’t been ’proached ’bout no contrac’,” replied Jerry. “Ah reckon mah ole frien’s done calklate Ah’s too rich to wuk.”
“Oh, I guess not, Jerry,” said Bob, laughing. “But I’ll speak to the boys.”
Jerry did not seem wholly reassured. He shambled along hesitatingly a little way, and then went on:
“Ah am ’bliged to you all, Mistah Bob, but dat ain’t prezackly all Ah wants to say. Dis money Ah got done been havin’ a pow’ful ’fluence on me. Ah’s been havin’ big dreams ’bout money fo’ three nights. Yas, sah!”
“Dreams about money?” asked Bob, laughing again. “I guess we’ve all had dreams of that kind.”
“Ain’t no one had no dreams like Ah been havin’,” explained Jerry soberly, shaking his head. “Ah been havin’ dreams ’at’s visions. Ah been seein’ things.”
“What have you been seein’?” asked Bob, slowing up his steps.
Jerry took the white boy by the arm, and, although it was late and the streets were practically deserted, he whispered:
“Three nights, Mistah Bob, a ole pirate man wif a long sword and two big pistols done walk straight through de wall o’ mah room an’ say—”