“Take all the tay and coffee, you bloody booger! Just give me a pipeful of the weed.”
Kilpatrick shook his fist at the big Irishman.
“Take the darned tobacco, you red-mouthed Mickey! What do I want with your tea and coffee?” Then both started to go a little way into the woods. Lieutenant Clopton following. The captain would have called them back, but they wouldn’t accept the invitation.
“We are just turnin’ our backs, sor, while you hold a family orgie,” said O’Halloran. “Me an’ this measly Johnny will just go on an’ complate the transaction of swappin’.”
At this moment Tuck reappeared on the scene. Seeing his young master, he stopped still and looked at him, and then broke out into loud complaints.
“Marse Dave Henry, whar de namer goodness you been? You better come read dish yer letter what yo’ ma writes you. I’m gwine tell mistiss she come mighty nigh losin’ a likely nigger, an’ she’ll rake you over de coals, mon.”
“Why, howdy, Tuck,” exclaimed Lieutenant Clopton. “Ain’t you glad to see me?”
“Yasser, I speck I is.” The negro spoke in a querulous and somewhat doubtful tone, as he produced a letter from the lining of his hat. “But I’d ’a’ been a heap gladder ef I hadn’t mighty nigh trapsed all de gladness out’n me.”
Young Clopton took the letter and read it with a smile on his lips and a dimness in his eyes. The negro, left to himself, had his attention attracted by the coffee and tobacco lying exposed on the ground. He looked at the display, scratching his head.
“Boss, is dat sho nuff coffee?”