"Whar dat gran'boy o' you'n?" she asked, breathlessly.

"Ain' he in de gyardin?"

"No, he ain'. Does you KNOW whar he is? Bettah tell me de truf. Mout
sabe you a heap ob trouble."

"Des you min' yo' business, en doan cum trapesin' yere 'bout Chunk.
You talks ez ef you own 'im."

"Ole mars'r tinks he own 'im, en he des a yellin' fer 'im. De
oberseer hollerin', too, en de lil niggahs runnin' yere, dar, en
yander lookin' fer 'im. Yere one ob um now."

With new and direful forebodings Aun' Jinkey declared loudly: "I
doan know what he be. He ain' say not'n ter me 'bout gwine anywhar."

Uttering an angry and contemptuous exclamation, Zany sped back, and,
with a scared look, said to Miss Lou, "Aun' Jinkey 'clar she dunno
not'n 'bout Chunk's doin's. Ef she ain' foolin' me, I des belebe
he's runned away."

At these tidings and at this suggestion the young girl was almost
distracted. She went instantly to the cabin, supposing that it would
soon be searched.

"Mammy!" she exclaimed, "where's Chunk?"

"Fo' de Lawd, honey, I doan know. I des gwine all ter pieces wid de
goin's on."