"Ah reckon yo's sailor ernuff to clim' dat. Come right erlong, 'less yo'
wants de dawgs ter jump down dar."
"But they'll tackle me if I come up," objected Jack Benson.
"No, dey won't. Dem dawgs is train' to dis wo'k. Ah done tole yo' dat.
Come right erlong. Ah'll keep my two eyes on dem dawgs."
It looked like a highly risky bit of business, but Jack told himself that,
now he had been deprived of his valuables, this yellow worthy must be
genuinely anxious to be rid of the victim. So he took hold of the rope and
began to climb. The mulatto and the dogs disappeared from the upper edge
of the pit.
As his head came up above the level of the flooring Benson saw the mulatto
and the dogs in the next room, the connecting door of which had been taken
from its hinges.
"Come right in, Marse Benson. Dere ain' nuffin' gwineter hu't yo'," came
the rascal's voice reassuringly. Jack obeyed by stepping into the next
room, though he kept watch over the dogs out of the corners of his eyes.
"Now, yo' lie right down on de flo', Marse Benson," commanded the master
of the situation. "Ah's gotter tie yo' up, befo' Ah can staht yo' back ter
'Napolis, but dere ain' no hahm gwine come ter yo'.
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