"An' he say he pay me all my back money fu' ovahtime."
"Oh!"
"An' all I gits right along he gwine he'p me save, an' when I git fo' hund'ed dollahs he gwine gin me de free papahs fu' you, my little gal."
"Oh, Ben, Ben! Hit ain' so, is it?"
"Yes, hit is. Den you'll be you own ooman—leas'ways less'n you wants to be mine."
She went and put her arms around his neck. Her eyes were sparkling and her lips quivering.
"You don' mean, Ben, dat I'll be free?"
"Yes, you'll be free, Viney. Den I's gwine to set to wo'k an' buy my free papahs."
"Oh, kin you do it—kin you do it—kin you do it?"
"Kin I do it?" he repeated. He stretched out his arm, with the sleeve rolled to the shoulder, and curved it upward till the muscles stood out like great knots of oak. Then he opened and shut his fingers, squeezing them together until the joints cracked. "Kin I do it?" He looked down on her calmly and smiled simply, happily.