“Now, Ah's gwine leave yo' fo' de night,” clacked the late guide. “Ef yo' done feel lonesome, yo' jes' whistle de dawgs down to yo'. Dey'll come!”
While the light was still there Benson, in raging silence, gathered the blankets and arranged them.
“Roll up one fo' a pillow, under yo' haid,” grinned the mulatto. “Dat's all right, sah. Now, good night, Marse Benson. Ef yo' feel lonesome, Marse Benson, jes' whistle fo' de dawgs. Dey'll come!”
The light vanished while the mulatto's sinister words were ringing in the boy's ears. Would the dogs jump down? Jack knew they would, at the first false move or sound on his part. He huddled softly, stealthily, on the blankets, there in the darkness.
As he lay there, thinking, Benson's sense of admiration gradually got to the surface.
“Well, of all the slick man-traps!” he gasped. “I never heard of anything more clever. Nor was there ever a bigger idiot than I, to walk stupidly into this same trap! What's the game, I wonder? Robbery, it must be. And I have a watch, some other little valuables and nearly a [pg 087] hundred and fifty dollars in money on me. Oh, I'm the sleek, fat goose for plucking!”
Lying there, in enforced stillness, Jack Benson, after an hour or so, actually fell asleep. A good, healthy sleeper at all times, he slumbered on through the night. Once he awoke, just a trifle chilled. He heard one of the dogs snoring overhead. Crawling under one of the blankets, Benson went to sleep again.
“Hey, yo', Marse Benson. It am mawnin'. Time yo' was wakin' up an' movin' erlong!”
It was the voice of the same mulatto, calling down into the pit. Again the rays of the lantern illumined the darkness. Both bull-dogs displayed their ferocious muzzles over the edge of the pit. Jack sat up cautiously, not caring to attract unfriendly interest from the dogs.
“Ah want yo' to take off all yo' clothes 'cept yo' undahclothes, an' den Ah'll let down a string fo' yo' to tie 'em to,” declared the mulatto, grinning. “Yo' needn't try ter slip yo' wallet, nor nuffin' outer mah sight, cause Ah'll be watchin'. Now, git a hurry on, Marse Benson, or Ah'll done push dem dawgs ober de aidge ob dis flooring.”