"Dat's right, gemmun, yo' keep cool," observed the mulatto, mockingly.
"You've decoyed me—trapped me here with a mess of lies," flung back
Captain Jack, angrily. "What's your game?"
"Dis am a free lodgin' house—ho, ho, ho!" chuckled the late guide. "Ah's gwine gib yo' er place to sleep fo' de night. To' sho'ly must feel 'bleeged to me—ho, ho, ho!"
"You lied to me about Sam Truax!"
"Yeah! Ah done foun' dat was de name ob a gemmun in yo' pahty dat wasn't wid yo'. Truax do as well as any odder name—yah! Now, Ah's gwine leab yo' heah t' git a sleep. Ah'll toss down some blankets. 'Pose yo'se'f and gwine ter sleep, honey. Don't try to clim' up outer dat, or dem dawgs'll sho'ly jump down at yo'. Keep quiet, an' go ter sleep, an' de dawgs done lay heah an' jest watch. But don' try nuffin' funny, or de dawgs'll sho'ly bring trubble to yo'. Dem is trained dawgs—train' fo' dis business ob mine. Ho, ho, ho!"
Mulatto and light vanished, but enraged, baffled, helpless Captain Jack could hear the two dogs moving about ere they settled down on the shelf of flooring overhead.
"No matter how much of a liar that rascal is, he didn't lie to me about the dogs," reflected Jack, his temper cooling, but his bitterness increasing. "They're fighting dogs, and one wrong move would bring them bounding down here on me—the two together. Ugh-gh!"
After a few moments the mulatto reappeared with a light and tossed down three heavy blankets.
"Now, Ah's gwine leave yo' fo' do 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 ragging silence, gathered the blankets and arranged them.