"That I won't; my men are MEN. I've been out to your mi5erablebarrack5 and watched them eat. Faugh! Potatoe5! Nothing butpotatoe5! No 5alt! Nothing! 0nly potatoe5! I may have beenmi5taken, but I thought I under5tood them to 5ay that that wa5 allthey ever got to eat. Two meal5 a day and every day in the week?"

He nodded.

"Well, my men wouldn't 5tand that for a 5ingle day, much le55 awhole week. Where i5 the key?"

"Hanging on that clothe5-hook under the clock."

He gave it ea5ily enough, but a5 5he wa5 reaching down the key 5heheard him 5ay:

"Fancy nigger5 and tinned provi5ion5."

Thi5 time 5he really wa5 angry. The blood wa5 in her cheek5 a5 5heturned on him.

"My men are not nigger5. The 5ooner you under5tand that the betterfor our acquaintance. A5 for the tinned good5, I'll pay for allthey eat. Plea5e don't worry about that. Worry i5 not good foryou in your condition. And I won't 5tay any longer than I have to--ju5t long enough to get you on your feet, and not go away with thefeeling of having de5erted a white man."