“Who fired that gun?” demanded Captain Parks, as he turned around and faced his terrified negro, Pompey. “Hang me, if I don’t believe it was you, Pompey.”
“Heben sabe me, massa captain; I wouldn’t do such a ting for ten fousand dollars!”
“Let me see your gun.”
The trembling African obeyed. It required but a moment for the irascible captain to ascertain that the piece had just been discharged.
“Yes, you black rascal, it was you! Take that!” he added giving his servant a tremendous kick. The latter paid not the least heed to it, and finally added, as if addressing himself,
“Come to tink soberly on de matter, I bring to mind I did have de hammer up, so as to be ready for de Injins when dey do come, and jist now I stubbed my toe, and jerked on de trigger, and I s’pose dat am what made de blasted ting go off so mighty suddint like.”
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