Only the soft sighing of the southern wind came to his ears.
"Yo' shuah done gotta use a mo' greasy elbow dan dat, chile," chuckled this imp of Satan aloud, though in a soft voice that seemed out of all proportion to his bulk.
Then he gave a half dozen indolent though steady strokes to the handle of the magneto.
"Whah am dat 'splosion ?" he asked himself in wonderment.

"Am mah eardrum done gone busted?
Moke, yo' am plumb lazy this night!" This time the huge negro pumped at the handle of the magneto until he was all but out of breath.

Several dozen shoves he had administered before he halted, let go of the magneto and raised himself to his full, majestic height.
"Some black witch hab done gwine wish a big hoodoo on me!" grunted the negro suspiciously.

"Dis am do fust time dat de magernetto gwine back on me like dis!" In his bewilderment the one whom Tom had named Sambo glared around him.
His eyes gleamed with a phosphorescence like that which one sees on the water on a lowering night.

What Reade did not know was that this black man possessed eyes that were a little keener in the dark than a bat's.
With a sudden "Woof!" Sambo went up in the air, moved sideways, and came down on the startled Tom Reade with the force of a pile driver.
"Wha' yo' doing heah ?" demanded the negro, gripping Reade by the coat collar and dragging that hapless engineer to his feet.
Tom did not answer.