Ef this thing 'bout Chunk gits out, en
nobody punished, the fiel'-hans natchelly think we darsn't punish.
Mought es well give up then."
"Punish as much as you think necessary to keep the quarter-hands at
work. Then it is plain," replied Mr. Baron.
Very seldom had Perkins been in so complacent and exultant a mood as
when he left the presence of Mr. Baron that morning. But his
troubles began speedily. Jute had slept little the night before and
was stupid and indifferent to his work in the afternoon. Finding
threats had little effect, the overseer struck a blow with his cane.
The negro turned fiercely but was confronted with a revolver. He
resumed work doggedly, his sullen look spreading like the shadow of
a cloud to the faces of the others. So many began to grow
indifferent and reckless that to punish all was out of the question.
Perkins stormed and threatened, striking some here and there, almost
beside himself from increasing anxiety and rage. Whichever way he
turned a dark vindictive face met his eyes.
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