"You didn't have to kill Whistler to get the key, did you?" went on Townsend, startled by the darky's fright.
"No, no, boss, Ah ain't dat kind."
"Where's Whistler?"
"He's heah——"
"Here!"
"Da's whut! En Jurgens is heah, en anudder white man—dey's all heah."
"Where are they? What are they doing? Can't they overhear us?"
Townsend fired his questions like the reports of a Gatling, meanwhile looking about him as though to fight whatever peril might show itself.
"You ain't got tuh feah dem no mo', cap'n," went on the darky. "Ah took de key f'om Whistler, en he didn't stop me—he wasn't able. I's feelin' monsus out ob sorts wif mahse'f, en now dat Ah's let you-all loose, Ah's gwine tuh cl'ar out. Take de candle if you want tuh stay heah, but Ah's gwine."
The darky forced the candle into Townsend's hand and whirled away.