“I’se boun’ to tell ’em, honey; but it won’t do the leastest mite ob good.”
“Go ahead, and we’ll soon find out what they think of it. At all events, there’ll be no great amount of harm done.”
Andy did as he was bidden, and after a long conversation, during which it seemed as if both the interpreter and the prisoners had considerable difficulty in understanding what was said, the blacks hailed those on the outside.
Then no slight amount of talking ensued, the men on the surface keeping themselves securely hidden, and at the close Andy was called upon once more to learn the result of the interview.
“Dey say how dey ain’ got anything to do dis yere bizziness,” the old man replied, after a painful effort to understand the prisoners; “but some ob de gang am gone to fin’ out ef it kin be fixed.”
“You won’t get any water, that I’ll guarantee,” Jenkins said, as he emerged from the tunnel. “They have gone to talk with the old men, an’ them fellers ain’t sich fools as not to know it’ll only be necessary to wait twenty-four hours before our jig is up.”
“Why did you leave the tunnel?” Gil asked, in surprise.
“Because there’s no use in staying there any longer. They’ve given up tryin’ to come in by that way, an’ in a few minutes the bosses of this ’ere fun will know jest how we’re situated.”
“Then you believe I did wrong in proposing to make the trade?”
“No, I don’t. It can make mighty little difference to us just now, an’ there was no harm to try.”