I'se done heah
a do' bang befo' now, en dars mo' in it den des de shettin' ter stay shet."
"So you ran away?" said Dan, with a long whistle.
"Ain't you done run away?"
"I--oh, I was turned out," answered the young man, with his eyes on the
negro. "But--bless my soul, Big Abel, why did you do it?"
Big Abel muttered something beneath his breath, and went on laying out the
things.
"How you gwine git dese yer close ef I ain' tote 'em 'long de road?" he
asked presently. "How you gwine git dis yer close bresh ef I ain' brung hit
ter you? Whar de close you got? Whar de close bresh?"
"You're a fool, Big Abel," retorted Dan. "Go back where you belong and
don't hang about me any more. I'm a beggar, I tell you, and I'm likely to
be a beggar at the judgment day."
"Whar de close bresh?" repeated Big Abel, scornfully.
"What would Saphiry say, I'd like to know?" went on Dan. "It isn't fair to
Saphiry to run off this way."
"Don' you bodder 'bout Saphiry," responded Big Abel. "I'se done loss my
tase fur Saphiry, young Marster."
"I tell you you're a fool," snapped out Dan, sharply.
"De Lawd he knows," piously rejoined Big Abel, and he added: "Dar ain' no
use a-rumpasin' case hyer I is en hyer I'se gwine ter stay. Whar you run,
dar I'se gwine ter run right atter, so 'tain' no use a-rumpasin'. Hit's a
pity dese yer ain' nuttin' but summer close."
Dan looked at him a moment in silence, then he put out his hand and slapped
him upon the shoulder.
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