Our adventurers were extremely weary with their day’s work. As soon as they had partaken of the hearty meal prepared by Pomp it was proposed to turn in.
And this they did. Pomp was left on guard, to be relieved by Barney in the early morning hours.
The darky paced the deck until long past midnight. Then he heard a low, sibilant whistle come from the gloom. In a moment his rifle hammer rose.
“Who am dar?” he asked, sharply.
“Easy, nigger! don’t get excited,” came back the reply. “I’m only one of Dooley’s men.”
“Wha’ yo’ want?”
“It’s durned lonesome up thar. Hev you got a chaw of terbacker?”
Pomp saw nothing in this request that could imply harm. The natural good-fellowship of man to man warmed within him, and he was too generous a soul not to reply.
“Reckon I hab, sah. Cum down yere an’ I gib yo’ a hunk!”
“Thank yer.”