"But what
have you to do with one?"
For a brief instant Sambo was almost inclined to believe that Reade did
not fully know his secret. Finally it dawned on the brain of the big
black man that he was being hoaxed.
"Ef yo' doan wanter tell, yo' doan hab to, ob co'se," proposed Sambo. "It
ain't mah way to be too persistency wid de w'ite quality gemmen. But Ah
done thought maybe yo' know somethin' dat yo's burnin' to tell."
"Who are you, and what are you doing around here?" asked Tom. "I'm certain
you don't belong to my force of workmen---unless you just joined
yesterday. Are you working on the breakwater job?"
"Yessah," promptly answered Sambo with momentary gravity. Then his mood
changed to a chuckle.
"Dat am all right, Massa Reade," he allowed. "But yo' doan' fool dis
nigger as easy as yo' maybe think. Ah know what yo' watchin' me fo',
and Ah done know I'se been doin' jess w'at yo' think. So I guess we
doan' need no mo' conversationin', unless yo' willing to talk right out
and tell me w'at's w'at."
"Sambo," said Reade solemnly, "I imagine I'm not very intelligent, after
all. I listened to you attentively, but, for the life of me, I couldn't
make out what you were talking about.
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