The negro’s fist suddenly shot into Gilbert’s nose with the crack of a sledge-hammer, laying him stunned on the pavement.
“Den take dat f’um yo’ equal, d—n you!” he cried, bending over his prostrate figure. “I’ll show you how to treat my ole marster, you low-down slue-footed devil!”
The stirring little drama roused the doctor and he turned to his servant with his old-time courtesy, and said:
“Thank you, Jake.”
“Come in here, Marse Richard; I knock dem things off’n you in er minute, ’en I get you outen dis town in er jiffy.”
“No, Jake, that is not my way; bring this gentleman some water, and then my horse and buggy. You can take me to the depot. This officer can follow with his men.” And he did.