you's stealin'. _You's stealin yo'sef!_"

"H'm!" sniffed Jeems Henry, now that the nature and extent of his crime
were fully understood. "Ef I ain' wuth but a dollar an' a quarter, I
suttenly ain' stealin' _much_!"

At this smart reply Uncle Billy's disgust overcame him completely and he
tossed the rooster on the ground and clutched Jeems Henry by the arm.

"You mighty right, you ain't!" he shouted. "An' ef I was fo' years
younger I'd take it outer yo' hide with a carriage whip. Hol' on dar,"
as Jeems Henry eluded his grasp and began to move away. "Which way you
gwine? You hear me? Now den!"

"I gwine up de river," replied Jeems Henry, badgered at last into
revealing his plan. Then, after a cautious look around,--"to
Chickahominy Swamp," he added in lower tones.

Uncle Billy cocked his ears. Here was news indeed.

"Chickahominy, huh! So de Yankees is up dar, is dey? An' what you think
you gwine to do when you git to 'em?"

"Wuck 'roun de camp," replied Jeems Henry with some vagueness.

"Doin' what?" was the relentless query.

"Blackin' de gent'men's boots--an'--an' gittin' paid fer it," Jeems
Henry stammered in reply. "It's better'n being a slave, Unc' Billy," he
added as he saw the sneer of contempt on the faithful old man's face.