“‘Is the cotton yours?’ the man asked.
“‘It is Mr. Gossett’s.’
“‘Why do you bring it here to-night?’
“‘I had my orders.’
“‘Oh, if I had the old scoundrel here!’ cried the man in a rage.
“‘If you talk loud, he’ll hear you,” said Aaron.
“The man understood at once. ‘Wait!’ he whispered. Then he slipped around the corner of the house. Suddenly I heard the gun go off, and it scared me so I couldn’t help but cry out. Some one else yelled, too — some one under the oaks in front, and then I heard the snorting and stamping of horses. The Son of Ben Ali stole off in the dark before the man returned, and I followed him, not knowing what had happened or what might happen.
“But I soon found out, and it was not as bad as it might have been. The shot the man fired had shattered one of the overseer’s arms. He was not hurt so badly but he could ride his horse, and he and Old Grizzly hurried home as fast as they could.
“After a while the Son of Ben Ali followed, but instead of riding in the wagon, he walked by the side of it, and I went ahead to see that the way was clear. The Son of Ben Ali knew that there was trouble in store for him, and he didn’t want Old Grizzly to get hold of him.”