Do you see the
stab on that dog? well, it's done with one of the bagnet pistols them
kidnappers carries--hoss pistols, with a spring dagger on the muzzle;
and, when they come to close quarters, they stab with 'em. Johnson
killed your dog; I know his marks. He sails this whole bay, and maybe
he's run them niggers to Washin'ton, or to Norfolk, an' sold 'em south.
It ain' no use to foller him to either of them places, if he has, with
the wind an' start he's got, and your pappy's influence lost to us by
his absence. But thar is one chance to overhaul the thief."
"What is that, James?" said Vesta, earnestly. "I do want to save those
poor people from the abuse of a man who could kill my poor, fond dog."
"Joe Johnson keeps a hell-trap--a reg'lar Pangymonum, up near the head
of Nanticoke River. It's the headquarters of his band, and a black band
they air. He has had good wind"--the pungy captain looked up and noted
the breeze--"to get him out of Manokin last night, and into the Sound;
but he must beat up the Nanticoke all day, and we kin head him off by
land, if that's his destination, before he gits to Vienna, an' make him
show his cargo. Then, with a messenger to follow Jedge Custis an' turn
him back, we can swear these niggers on Johnson--and, you see, we can't
make no such oath till we git the evidence--an' then, by smoke! we'll
bring ole Hominy an' the pore chillen back to Teackle Hall.
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