"Give me that gun!" And
snatching it from Sam's unwilling hand, he levelled it at the
cage.
"BING!" he roared.
Simultaneously there was the sound of another report; but this
was an actual one and may best be symbolized by the statement
that it was a whack. The recipient was Herman, and, outrageously
surprised and pained, he turned to find himself face to face with
a heavily built coloured woman who had recently ascended the
stairs and approached the preoccupied hunters from the rear. In
her hand was a lath, and, even as Herman turned, it was again
wielded, this time upon Verman.
"MAMMY!"
"Yes; you bettuh holler, 'Mammy!"' she panted. "My goo'ness, if
yo' pappy don' lam you to-night! Ain' you got no mo' sense 'an to
let white boys 'suede you play you Affikin heathums? Whah you
britches?"
"Yonnuh Verman's," quavered Herman.
"Whah y'own?"
Choking, Herman answered bravely:
"'At ole cat tuck an' th'owed 'em down cistern!"
Exasperated almost beyond endurance, she lifted the lath again.
But unfortunately, in order to obtain a better field of action,
she moved backward a little, coming in contact with the bars of
the cage, a circumstance that she overlooked.
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