Tom was thunderstruck. "Who brought that news here?" he asked.
"De niggers, dey brung it. You can't keep anything away from de darkies."
"How far is General Mason's place from here?"
"Fifteen miles, or sich a matter."
"And did the darkies say who stole it?"
"Oh, yes, sar. Dey say that a youngster named Tom Mason—he's just about your size, but you aint no thief, be ye?"
"Do I look like a thief?" enquired Tom.
"I aint a-sayin' you did, sar. I only say he was just about your size. Then this Luke Redman,—you've heared of him, aint ye?—he got hold of the money and tried to run away to Texas."
"Well, the old gentleman has got it now," said Tom, who plainly saw that it wouldn't do to talk too freely with the darky on this subject, because he knew too much. "They organized a big expedition and hunted the man down and captured him."
"I am mighty glad to hear it, and I hope dey will throw dem as 'as got it in jail so tight that dey won't never have time to think of five thousand dollars. Now, sit down on that block of wood and I'll soon get you something to eat. You see, there is two bunks here? One belongs to my pardner, who is home now, sick with the rheumatiz. Moster is mighty keerful of his niggers, and he don't like to have Pomp come down here dat a-way, so he told him he must stay about the house and do light chores until next week, when he will come down here to help me split rails. Dere's a slice of bacon and some johnny cake for you. If you can wait till I fix up the fire I will give you a cup of coffee."