"Father run away, did he?"
"He nebber was down dar, nudder."
"Nor his father?"
"'Tain't no business ob yourn," said Dick, "but we's allers lived right heah, on dis bay."
"Guess not," said the white boy knowingly. Dick was right, nevertheless; for his people had been slaves among the very earliest Dutch settlers, and had never "lived South" at all. He was now busily getting one of the boats ready to shove off; but his white tormentor went at him again, with,—
"Well, then, if you've lived round here as long as that, you must know everybody."
"Reckon I do."
"Are there any nice fellows around here? Any like me?"
"De nicest young gen'lman round dis bay," replied Dick, "is Mr. Dab
Kinzer. But he ain't like you. Not nuff to hurt him."
"Dab Kinzer," exclaimed the stranger. "Where'd he get his name?"