“You are? How are you going to do it?”
“Jordan,” said Godfrey, “did you come back to dig up that thar bar’l you kivered up here in this tater-patch on the day the Yanks cut the levee?”
“Dat’s tellin’,” replied the negro.
“Do you know where the barrel is?” asked Clarence.
“Course he does,” exclaimed Godfrey, “kase he’s the one that kivered it up. Whar is it, Jordan? Pint out the spot, an’ ye shall go free without no harm bein’ done to ye; but if ye don’t tell——”
“Hol’ on dar, boss!” cried the old negro, as Godfrey once more drew back his spade.
“Do you know where the barrel is?” asked Clarence. “Answer that question!”
“I reckon I does, boss!”
“Well, where is it?”
“O, I didn’t say I’d tell dat, did I? It ’longs to my ole marse, Gen’ral Gordon.”