“I saw her going toward the spring in the edge of the woods there a minute ago,” replied Gaston.
Tom sprang up and began to hop and jump down the path toward the spring with incredible rapidity.
Flora was playing in the branch below the spring and Tom saw the form of a negro man passing over the opposite hill going along the spring path that led in that direction.
“Was you talkin’ with that nigger, Flora?” asked Tom holding his hand on his side and trying to recover his breath.
“Yes, I said howdy, when he stopped to get a drink of water, and he give me a whistle,” she replied with a pout of her pretty lips and a frown.
Tom seized her by the arm and shook her. “Didn’t I tell you to run every time you seed a nigger unless I was with you!”
“Yes, but he wasn’t hurtin’ me and you are!” she cried bursting into tears.
“I’ve a notion to whip you good for this!” Tom stormed.
“Don’t Tom, she won’t do it any more, will you Flora?” pleaded Gaston taking her in his arms and starting to the house with her. When they reached the house, Tom was still pale and trembling with excitement.
“Lord, there’s so many triflin’ niggers loafin’ round the county now stealing and doin’ all sorts of devilment, I’m scared to death about that child. She don’t seem any more afraid of ’em than she is of a cat.”