Freckles was his captive, but he was the Angel's, soul and body.

His face wore the holiest look it ever had known as he softly re-echoed Freckles' "All right." With her head held well up, the Angel walked slowly away, and Jack turned to the men.
"Drop your damned staring and saw wood," he shouted.

"Don't you know anything at all about how to treat a lady ?" It might have been a question which of the cronies that crouched over green wood fires in the cabins of Wildcat Hollow, eternally sucking a corncob pipe and stirring the endless kettles of stewing coon and opossum, had taught him to do even as well as he had by the Angel.
The men muttered and threatened among themselves, but they began working desperately.

Someone suggested that a man be sent to follow the Angel and to watch her and the Bird Woman leave the swamp.

Freckles' heart sank within him, but Jack was in a delirium and past all caution.
"Yes," he sneered.