not in
his hand.

CHAPTER V.

Instead of opening the door, therefore, Willy called to the old man,
who was leisurely crossing the yard: "Run, Uncle Balla. Quick, run!"

At the call Old Balla and Frank set out as fast as they could.

"What's the matter? Is he done kill de chickens? Is he done got away?"
the old man asked, breathlessly.

"No, he's dyin'," shouted Willy.

"Hi! is you shoot him?" asked the old driver.

"No, that other man's poisoned him. He was the robber and he fooled
this one," explained Willy, opening the door and peeping anxiously in.

"Go 'long, boy,--now, d'ye ever heah de better o' dat?--dat man's
foolin' wid you; jes' tryin' to git yo' to let him out."

"No, he isn't," said Willy; "you ought to have heard him."

But both Balla and Frank were laughing at him, so he felt very
shamefaced. He was relieved by hearing another groan.

"Oh, oh, oh! Ah, ah!"

"You hear that?" he asked, triumphantly.

"I boun' I'll see what's the matter with him, the roscol! Stan' right
dyah, y' all, an' if he try to run shoot him, but mine you don' hit
_me_," and the old man walked up to the door, and standing on one side
flung it open. "What you doin' in dyah after dese chillern's
chickens?" he called fiercely.

"Hello, old man, 's 'at you? I's mighty sick," muttered the person
within. Old Balla held his torch inside the house, amid a confused
cackle and flutter of fowls.

"Well, ef 'tain' a white man, and a soldier at dat!" he exclaimed.
"What you doin' heah, robbin' white folks' hen-roos'?" he called,
roughly. "Git up off dat groun'; you ain' sick."

"Let me get up, Sergeant,--hic--don't you heah the roll-call?--the
tent's mighty dark; what you fool me in here for?" muttered the man
inside.

The boys could see that he was stretched out on the floor, apparently
asleep, and that he was a soldier in uniform. Balla stepped inside.

"Is he dead?" asked both boys as Balla caught him by the arms, lifted
him, and let him fall again limp on the floor.

"Nor, he's dead-drunk," said Balla, picking up an empty flask. "Come
on out. Let me see what I gwi' do wid you?" he said, scratching his
head.

[Illustration: THE OLD MAN WALKED UP TO THE DOOR, AND STANDING ON ONE
SIDE FLUNG IT OPEN.]

"I know what I gwi' do wid you. I gwi' lock you up right whar you is."

"Uncle Balla, s'pose he gets well, won't he get out?"

"Ain' _I_ gwi' lock him up? Dat's good from you, who was jes' gwi' let
'im out ef me