Part 65 (1/2)
”Yes.”
”Of what sort?”
”I will tell him,” answered Caesar shortly.
”So its private, is it?”
”Yes. If he wants to tell you he will.”
”That's fair. Well, come along! Am I walking too fast for you?”
”Your legs are much longer than mine.”
”That's so. You are a little shrimp. I declare.”
A walk of twenty minutes brought them to the Griffin Mine. Jefferson Pettigrew was standing near, giving directions to a party of miners.
”Jefferson,” said the man with the pipe, ”here's a chap that wants to see you on business of importance. That is, he says it is.”
Jefferson Pettigrew wheeled round and looked at Caesar.
”Well,” he said, ”what is it?”
”I have a letter for you, ma.s.sa.”
”Give it to me.”
Jefferson took the letter and cast his eye over it. As he read it his countenance changed and became stern and severe.
”Do you know what is in this letter?” he asked.
”Yes.”
”Come with me.”
He led Caesar to a place out of earshot.
”What fiend's game is this?” he demanded sternly.
”I can't tell you, ma.s.sa; I'm not in it.”
”Who are those men that have written to me?”
”I don't know their right names. I calls 'em Ma.s.sa John and Ma.s.sa d.i.c.k.”
”It seems they have trapped a boy friend of mine, Rodney Ropes. Did you see him?”
”Yes; I gave him a good dinner.”
”That is well. If they should harm a hair of his head I wouldn't rest till I had called them to account. Where have they got the boy concealed?”