But Ah want yo' to undahstan', Mr.
White Man, dat I doan' allow yo' to call me Tar Baby." "Oh, come, now, don't get huffy," yawned Evarts, who had not taken the trouble to rise.

"I'm not afraid of you, Tar." "Stop dat!" cried the black angrily.

"Yo's takin' big chances, yo' is." "You're big and powerful, I know that," grinned Evarts.

"But I have something with me that makes me just the same size as you are, or perhaps a little bigger.

See this!" The ex-foreman drew from one of his pockets a formidable-looking automatic revolver.
"Huh!" grunted the negro, producing a similar pistol, "yo' ain' no bettah fixed dan Ah be." "We're quits," laughed Evarts easily, returning his weapon to his pocket.
"Put up your rain-maker." "Den yo' won't call me Tar Baby no mo ?" "No more." "All right, den." Ebony put up his weapon.
"Now, what's the programme ?" asked Evarts.