This particular motor belonged
to Constable Bobbs, and the next moment the trio saw the ponderous body
of the officer at the wheel, and by his side a woman. As the machine
clacked toward them Peter felt a certain surprise to see that it was
Cissie Dildine.
The constable in the car scrutinized the black men, by the roadside in a
very peculiar way. As he came near, he leaned across Cissie and almost
eclipsed the girl. He eyed the trio with his perpetual menace of a grin
on his broad red face. His right hand, lying across Cissie's lap, held a
revolver. When closest he shouted above the clangor of his engine:
"Now, none o' that, boys! None o' that! You'll prob'ly hit the gal if
you shoot, an' I'll pick you off lak three black skunks."
He brandished his revolver at them, but the gesture was barely seen, and
instantly concealed by the cloud; of dust following the motor. Next
moment it enveloped the negroes and hid them even from one another.
It was only after Peter was lost in the dust-cloud that the mulatto
really divined what was meant by Cissie's strange appearance with the
constable, her chalky face, her frightened brown eyes.
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