THE BOY-HUNTER. 53 



" You Sanch ! you Snap ! get out, you dogs ! get out ! 

 begone !" I shriek, but it is too late now to save poor molly- 

 cotton from being torn. 



" Hoo-ey ! dat my Snap ! yah ! yah !" 



" You nigger, dat Sanch, fust ! Mass Charles dat Sanch ? 

 yah! yah! dis nigger's dog! Hoo-ray! hoo-ray !" 



