Sweetest Susan was careful to say nothing to Buster John and Drusilla about the slip of the tongue that caused her to tell her mother about their adventures in Mr. Thimblefinger’s queer country; but she didn’t feel very comfortable when Drusilla told how she had been questioned by her mistress.
“Ef somebody ain’t done gone an’ tol’ ’er,” said Drusilla, “she got some mighty quare notions in ’er head.”
Buster John, who had ideas of his own, ignored all this, and said he was going to put an apple in the spring the next day and watch for Mr. Thimblefinger.
“Well, ef you gwine down dar any mo’,” remarked Drusilla, “you kin des count me out, kaze I ain’t gwine ’long wid you. I’m one er deze yer kind er quare folks what know pine blank when dey done got nuff. I been shaky ever since we went down in dat ar place what wa’n’t no place.”
“You will go,” said Buster John.
“Huh! Don’t you fool yo’self, honey! You can’t put no ’pen’ence in a skeer’d nigger.”
“If you don’t go, you’ll wish you had,” said Buster John.
“How come?” asked Drusilla.
“Wait and see,” replied Buster John.
The next morning, bright and early, Buster John put an apple in the spring. He watched it float around for awhile, and then his attention was attracted to something else, and he ran away to see about it. Whatever it was, it interested him so much that he forgot all about the apple in the spring, and everything else likely to remind him of Mr. Thimblefinger’s queer country.