"As you say, sir," I replied, stepping back a few paces; "but I warn you—there is danger in him!"
Taking no notice of my remark, the Colonel turning to the trembling negroes, said: "One of you go to the house and bring my pistols."
"You kin shoot me, ef you likes," said Jim, with a fierce, grim smile; "but I'll take you ter h—l wid me, shore. You knows we wont stand a blow!"
The Colonel, at the allusion to their relationship, started as if shot, and turning furiously on the negro, yelled out: "I'll shoot you for that, you d——d nigger, by ——."
"It 'pears ter me, Cunnel, ye've hed 'bout nuff shootin' round har, lately; better stop thet sort o' bis'ness; it moight give ye a sore throat," said the long, lean, loose-jointed stump-speaker of the previous Sunday, as he entered the cabin and strode directly up to my host.
"What brought you here, you d——d insolent hound?" cried the Colonel, turning fiercely on the new-comer.
"Wal, I cum ter du ye a naaboorly turn—I've kotched two on yer niggers down ter my still, and I want ye ter take 'em 'way," returned the corn-cracker, with the utmost coolness.
"Two of my niggers!" exclaimed the Colonel, perceptibly moderating his tone—"which ones?"
"A yaller gal, and a chile."
"I thank you, Barnes; excuse my hard words—I was excited."