"All right," shouted Hanson. "Run away if you want to, and I will go to the missus and tell her that you've got something of hers—some of her gold things. You won't lie me down, either, like you done the last time, for I seen you have 'em."
This dreadful threat reached the ears of the thief and stopped his flight. He turned about and faced the overseer.
"And then do you know what the Missus will say to me?" the latter went on. "She'll say, 'Mister Hanson, take this boy to the field and put him to work. He ain't fitten to stay about the house.' And when I get you into the field," he added, shaking his riding-whip at the culprit, "won't I see that you handle them hoes lively? I reckon not. Come here and give me that, I tell you."
"You'll lick me if I come back," said Julius.
"No, I won't tech hide nor hair of ye. Honor bright."
"And won't ye tell de Missus, nuther?"
"Well, that depends on whether I do or not," replied Hanson evasively. "If you'll mind every word I say to you and jump the minute you hear the word, I won't tell her. Come here, now."
Not being able just then to discover any other way out of the scrape, Julius tremblingly obeyed. When the overseer took the stolen pin in his hands his eyes seemed ready to start from their sockets.
"Do you know what you've went and done, you thieving nigger?" he said, in a mysterious whisper. "What do you reckon these yer things is scattered round 'mongst this gold?"
"Glass, ain't they?" faltered Julius.