“‘Deed no, Marse Frank!” cried the delighted darky. “I is too bad fo’ to die. Hi dar, Pish, I is glad to see you!”
“Well, if it ain’t the naygur!” cried Barney, with a wild rush at Pomp. “Whurroo, it’s glad I am to see yez onct more alive an’ well! Bejabers that’s so!”
The two friends embraced warmly. Then Colonel Clark rode up and saluted all.
“It seems that you’ve been having a bit of a squall here,” he declared, “but at any rate you’ve vanquished the enemy.”
“With your timely assistance,” replied Frank. “But I believe we are not strangers, colonel.”
“Frank Reade, Jr., the inventor!” cried Clark, springing from the saddle and seizing Frank’s hand. “Well, now, I’m glad to see you. But come to think of it, your colored man mentioned the name of Frank Reade, but I never dreamed that it was you.”
“It is nobody else,” replied Frank with a laugh. “And I well remember you.”
“And I do you,” replied Clark. “I was once one of an army commission to visit you and make you an offer for one of your inventions on a gun.”
“You are right.”
“You would not sell it.”