They were Niggertown dogs,
and the sight of a white man always drove them to a frenzy. Presently in
the hullabaloo, Peter heard Dawson Bobbs's voice shouting:
"Aunt Mahaly, if you kain't call off this dawg, I'm shore goin' to kill
him."
Then an old woman's scolding broke in and complicated the melee.
Presently Peter saw the bulky form of Dawson Bobbs come around the
curve, moving methodically from cabin to cabin. He held some legal-
looking papers in his hands, and Peter knew what the constable was
doing. He was serving a blanket search-warrant on the whole black
population of Hooker's Bend. At almost every cabin a dog ran out to
blaspheme at the intruder, but a wave of the man's pistol sent them
yelping under the floors again.
When the constable entered a house, Peter could hear him bumping and
rattling among the furnishings, while the black householders stood
outside the door and watched him disturb their housekeeping
arrangements.
Presently Bobbs came angling across the street toward the Siner cabin.
As he entered the rickety gate, old Caroline called out:
"Whut is you after, anyway, white man?"
Bobbs turned cold, truculent eyes on the old negress.
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