Every word came out by itself, "afoot and alone," and as different from Dick's ordinary speech as a cut stone is from a rough one. Ham Morris opened his eyes wide, and Ford puckered his lips into the shape of a still whistle; but Annie caught the meaning of it quicker than they did.
"Dick," she said at once, "are we to fish to-day?"
"May—be,—but—that—depends—on—Mr. Morris."
Every word was slowly and carefully uttered, a good deal in the manner of a man counting over a lot of money, and looking out sharp for counterfeits.
"Look here, Dick," suddenly exclaimed Dab Kinzer, "I give it up: you can do it. But don't you try to keep it up all day. Kill you, sure as any thing, if you do."
"Did I say 'em all right, Cap'n Dab?" anxiously inquired Dick, with a happy look on his merry black face.
"Every word," said Dab; "but it's well for you they were all short. Keep on practising."
"I'll jes' do dat, shuah!"
Practising? Dick?
Yes, that was it; and he joined heartily in the peal of laughter with which the success of his first attempt at "w'ite folks' English" was received by that party.