"Well, I'm content with wot I does happen to know about it," remarked Jo, making a wry face; "an' I hope that I'll never git the chance of knowin' more. But I comed here on business, Mr. Thorwald" (here John became mysterious, and put his finger to his lips.) "I've comed here, Mr. Thorwald, to—split."
As Ole did not quite understand the meaning of this word, and did not believe that the seaman actually meant to rend himself from head to foot, he said, "Why, Bumpus! what d'ye mean?"
"I mean as how that I've comed to split on my comrades; w'ich means, I'm goin' to tell upon 'em."
"Oh!" exclaimed Ole, eying the man with a look of distrust.
"Yes," pursued Bumpus; "I'm willin' to tell ye all about it, and prevent his escape, if you'll only promise, on your word as a gin'lmun, that ye won't tell nobody else but six niggers, who are more than enough to sarve your turn."
"Prevent whose escape?" said Thorwald, with an excited look.
"Gascoyne's."
Ole jumped off his stool, and hit his left palm a sounding blow with his right fist.
"I knew it!" he exclaimed, staring into the face of the seaman. "I was sure of it! I said it! But how d'ye know, my man?"
"Ah! I'll not say another word if ye don't promise to let me go free, and only take six niggers with ye."