Git under the bed--quick, young massa. You'll be safe
dar--quick."
Frank had hardly time to act upon this suggestion, when the door
suddenly opened, and a shaggy head appeared.
"Haven't you had your supper yet, Pomp, you black rascal?" inquired
the overseer, witnessing the preparations for cooking that were going
on.
"I's only been home a few minutes, massa," answered Pomp.
"Well, hurry up, then. I came here," continued the overseer, "to tell
you that there is a Yankee prowling around here somewhere; if he comes
here, I want you to send for me. Do you understand?"
"Yes, massa," answered Pomp.
"Don't you feed him, or do any thing else for him," continued the
overseer. "If you do, I'll whip you to death. Now, mind what I tell
you." And the overseer closed the door, and departed, to carry the
same information and warning to the other cabins.
As soon as the sound of his footsteps had died away, Pomp whispered:
"All right now, young massa. You can come out now--no danger. The
oberseer won't come to dis house g'in dis night."
Frank, accordingly, crawled out from under the bed, and seated himself
in the easy chair, while the old woman went on with her cooking.
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