“I’ll go, too!” called Paul, following Billy.
At the kitchen door, Billy hailed the cook.
“Say, Mose, got a bag that’ll hold five pounds?” asked Billy, looking about quickly.
“Wha’fo’, Chile?” wondered Mose, suspiciously.
“Oh, I have to do a stunt for a coup—a strong white salt bag will do.”
“Ah reckon Ah kin len’ yo’ th’ cook-salt bag but don’ yo’ go an’ waste enny salt outen the bag. Ah jes’ got this lot o’ salt an’ its gotta las’ me a fo’tnight!” As he spoke Mose took the full salt-bag from the shelf to hand to Billy.
“Pooh! We can’t use your old salt—all I want is the bag!” laughed Billy, rummaging about in the kitchen cupboard.
“See heah, Bo! don yo’ go t’ dislodgin’ m’ pots an’ pans now! Jes’ give Mose time t’ dig out a bag, will yo’?” So saying, the southern cook yanked a crate out from a corner and lifted a heavy burlap bag therefrom.
“How’s dis? It’ll onny take a shake t’ dump out th’ rock salt—er kin yo’ use the hull thing jus’ as it is?”
Billy laughed and Paul declared, “Mose, you’re a numm-skull, sure as shootin’.”