"Hi! I knows dat. W'at fer you so hidin'-in-de-grass, granny? No use
bein' dat away wid a Linkum man."

"I ain' talkin' 'bout my young mistis to folks ez drap down fum de
clouds."

"You wouldn't like me better if I came up from below, aunty. There
now, I'm not a very bad fellow, and I belong to the army that's
going to make you all free."

"I hasn't des tink out dis question ob bein' free yit. I'se too ole
to wuk much an' old mars'r's took keer on me long time."

"Well, I'se tink it out," put in Chunk, decidedly; "en I'se able to
wuk fer you en me too."

"You mighty peart, Chunk, co'tin' a gal lie a bean-pole a'ready. I
reck'n she spen' all you eber mek. You bettah boos' de Linkum man
into dat ar lof sud'n, kase ef Marse Perkins cotch 'im yere we all
ain' feelin' berry good bimeby."

"Dat ar truer'n preachin'," admitted Chunk, with alacrity. "Des you
tek hol' ob dem ladder rouns, mars'r, an' put yo' foots on my
sho'lers. Dat's hit. Nobody tink ob fin'in' you yere. I'se study how
ter git yo' hoss out of sight 'gin mawnin'."

"You stand by me, Chunk," said the soldier, "and you won't be sorry.
There's a lot of us coming this way soon, and I can be a good friend
of yours and all your people if you help me out of this scrape."