"Oh, no, Uncle Zack! But tell me 'bout mine, first!"
The old negro stopped stock still and looked down with a frown.
"You'se de mos' pestiferistes' pusson on dis heah place!" Then, catching an inspiration, he asked: "Why does you swaller when you'se chawin' a piece of cake?"
"Dar now, Mesmie, ain' he a smart li'l man?" the old fellow chuckled. "Dat's de ve'y reason--you jes' do! An' dat's 'zackly what de knuckles does--dey jes' do! Now, since we done relieve ourse'ves on dat pint, le's move 'long!"
Both seemed to have forgotten the discussion on thoroughbreds, but the old negro still pretended to be haughty; and now, slowly approaching the mule which narrowly watched from the corner of his eye, he casually observed:
"De ve'y idee of sayin' mah mule's lazy! Why, he kin nacherly out-run de life outen a li'l sawed-off dumplin' lak one I sees standin' 'round heah!"
This was the touch of spark to powder. The boy thrust his hand deep into his pocket, brought it forth and opened it, then stepped quickly forward:
"I'll bet you a nickel--an' here it is--that Daniel an' I can beat you to the pike an' back!"
"Keep 'way! Keep 'way, son!" the old man hastily warned. "Keep 'way from his heah whirlwind!"
Bip backed slowly off. He understood the uncertainties of this location, and carefully watched the mule's anticipative ears which were symbols of treachery.
"Git on 'way, now," Zack again warned. "I'se gwine heist up de saddle!"
"He can't kick me over here," the boy said.
"Don' you believe no sich a-thing," the negro emphatically exclaimed. "De op'rashions of dis heah telescope extends to jest whar you happen to be standin'--no moh, an' no less. All he wants to know is yoh ad-dress, an' he'll pop you suah!"
"Then I'm as safe here as I would be at home," came the logical retort.
Zack stopped what he was about to do and stood with a broad grin on his face. Slowly he looked from the sturdy little youngster to the mule, and at last back again.
"De onlies' diff'ence is," he scratched his head, "dat ef you cross de road now, mebbe you kin do it lak a li'l gemmen; but ef you keep on foolin' 'roun' dis mule's back-doh, you'se apt to git heisted crost lak a jay-bird. It's mighty good sense to press yoh luck as fur's it'll go, honey, but a oudacious sin to set right out to bust it. An' 'member what ole Zack say 'bout dat, 'caze it mought do you a heap of good some day!"