Finally the knots were loosened so that Matt could slip his hands from the encompassing coils, and he was but a minute more in freeing his feet.
“Now, then, Uncle Tom,” cried he, “this way—as fast as you can come!”
He sprang to the door, Uncle Tom lurching after him.
“Doan’ yo’ git too fur away, Marse Matt,” pleaded the negro. “Ef dat Kelly meets me alone by mahse’f, Ah’s gwine ter be a daid niggah. Stay by me.”
Matt lessened his pace so that Uncle Tom could follow him closely out of the room and down the stairs. They started to leave by the front of the garage, but, as ill luck would have it, Kelly, red and wrathful, leaped through the door directly in front of Matt.
“Fo’ de lan’ sakes!” wailed Uncle Tom, staggering limply back against the wall.
“Clear out by the rear door, Uncle Tom!” shouted Matt, picking up a heavy wrench from the floor.
Uncle Tom scrambled for the rear of the garage at a remarkable rate of speed.
Kelly swore.
“So this was that nigger’s game, was it?” he growled. “I knew something was up when I found Partington, and he said he hadn’t sent fer me! I’ll skin that black villain alive!”