“He looked scared. I tol’ him he could go up and see de boy if he wasn’t afeared of the carvin’-knife, but he said he guessed he wouldn’t—he didn’t like crazy folks.”
Curtis laughed heartily.
“So it all ended as it should. Did the boy make any more trouble?”
“Yes; he pounded and kicked till I had to go up and see what was the matter. I didn’t give him no satisfaction, and I guess he went to bed.”
“He ought to be in a deep sleep by this time. I will go up and see. Go up with me, Julius, for I may have to ask you to help me bring him down.”
Though Julius was naturally a coward, he felt quite brave when he had company, and he at once went upstairs with Curtis Waring.
Curtis drew the bolt, and, entering the chamber, his glance fell upon Dodger, fast asleep on the bed.
“I am glad the boy did not undress,” he said. “It will save me a great deal of trouble. Now, Julius, you can take his feet and I will lift his head, and we will take him downstairs.”
“S’pos’n he wakes up, Massa Curtis?”
“He won’t wake up. I took care the sleeping potion should be strong enough to produce profound slumber for eighteen hours.”