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."
Jack hesitated only a moment. Then, with a grunt of rage, he began
removing his outer garments. Down came a twine, to the lower end of which
the boy made fast his garments, one after another. His money and valuables
went up in the pockets, for the sharp eyes of the mulatto could not have
been eluded by any amateur slight-of-hand.
"Now, yo' cap an' yo' shoes," directed the grinning monster above.
These, too, Benson passed up at the end of the cord. The mulatto
disappeared, leaving the two dogs still on guard. At last, back came the
light and the yellowish man with it.
"Yo' sho' is good picking, Marse Benson," grinned the guide of the night
before. "Yo' has good pin feathers. Ah hope Ah'll suttinly meet yo'
again.
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