"I taught myself. It isn't hard."
"Dat's because your white. A poor nigger like me couldn't learn," said Pompey half inquiringly.
"Oh yes, you could. I see you have an ear for music. Would you like to try?"
"If you would let me."
Dean handed the negro the harmonica, and gave him the necessary directions. In the course of half an hour he was able to play through "Old Folks at Home," with substantial accuracy.
"I wish I had a harmonicum," said Pompey wistfully. "It would make old Pompey happy."
An idea came into Dean's head—a wild, perhaps an impracticable idea, but he resolved to carry it out, if possible.
"Pompey," he said, "I'll give you the harmonica if you'll let me out of the cave."
Pompey rolled his eyes in affright.