"Where's I gwine, Massa Tom?"
"Yes, Rad, that's what I asked you."
"I—I'se gwine t' feed mah mule, Boomerang," said the colored man slowly. "It's his eatin' time, jest now, Massa Tom."
"Nonsense! It isn't anywhere near noon yet."
"Yais, sab, Massa Tom, I knows dat," said Eradicate, as he carefully edged away from the big gun, "but I'se done changed de eatin' hours ob dat mule. He had a little touch ob indigestion de udder day, an' I'se feedin' him diff'rent now. So I guess as how yo'll hab t' 'scuse me now, Massa Tom."
"Oh, well, trot along," laughed the young inventor. "I guess we won't need you. Is everything all right there, Koku?"
"All right, Master."
"Now, Ned, if you'll stand here," went on Tom, "and note the extreme point to which the hand on the pressure gauge goes, I'll be obliged to you. Just jot it down on this pad."
"Here comes someone," remarked the bank clerk, as he saw that his pencil was sharpened. He pointed to the field back of them.
"It's Mr. Damon," observed Tom. "We'll wait until he arrives. He'll be interested in this."