"Why," he says, "it's this way. I think I'll have half that pile,
don't you see?"
I says: "What?"
I felt like an empty meal bag with surprise. Then I says, "Of course
I was meaning to make you a present, Captain,"
"No," he says. "That's not it. It's this way. The niggers is so
tricky, they'd drop you overboard, tied to a chunk of iron, if I told
'em they might, don't you see? And if I don't tell them they might,
seems as if I ought to have half. Because," he says, "they'd love to
do it, because they're that way, those niggers, and it seems that
way, as if I'd ought to have half, don't it?"
"Why don't you take it all?" I says, sarcastic and mad.
"Why?" he says, looking like a full moon that was shocked. "No! That
wouldn't be fair, don't you see?"
I kept still a while, and then I thought maybe there'd be a way or
two out, and I spoke mild.
"There's some reason in it, when you put it that way."
"That's right," he says, and acted joyful and free. "It's that way;"
and he went above, and I heard him banging the negroes, likely for
the wickedness they were capable of. I sat on my bunk and wondered
why a man like me was always having trouble.
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