We've none on the place, but if you say so, I'll borrow----" "No, no! Mr.Travilla, you will not allow it" cried Elsie, turning an entreating look upon him.
"No, Spriggs, the man must be greatly weakened by the loss of blood, and, unable to defend himself, might be torn to pieces by them before you could prevent it." "Small loss to the rest of the world if he was," grumbled the overseer.
"Yes, but I wouldn't have him die such a death as that; or hurried into eternity without a moment for repentance." "But might it not be well to have another search ?" suggested Elsie.

"He had better be given up to justice, even for his own good, than die in the woods of weakness and starvation." "Hands are all so busy with the sugar-cane just now, ma'am, that I don't see how they could be spared," answered Spriggs.

"And tell you what, ma'am"-- as if struck with a sudden thought--"the rascal must have a confederate that's helped him off." "Most likely," said Mr.Travilla.

"Indeed, I think it must be so.

And you need give yourself no further anxiety about him, my dear.".