"Hold on, dar I Hold on, Mistah Swift!" cried a colored man,
suddenly popping into view. "Doan't go down dat hill."
"Why, it's Eradicate Sampson!" exclaimed Tom, quickly shutting off
the power and applying the brakes. "What's the matter, Rad? Why
shouldn't I go down that hill?"
"Beca'se, Mistah Swift, dere's a pow'ful monstrous tree trunk
right across de road at a place whar yo' cain't see it till yo'
gits right on top ob it. Ef yo' done hit dat ar tree on yo'
lickity-split machine, yo' suah would land in kingdom come.
Doan't go down dat hill!"
Tom leaped off his machine and approached the colored man.
Eradicate Sampson did odd jobs in the neighborhood of Shopton, and
more than once Tom had done him favors in repairing his lawn mower
or his wood-sawing machine. In turn Eradicate had given Tom a
valuable clue as to the hiding place of the model thieves.
"How'd the log get across the road, Rad?" asked Tom.
"I dunno, Mistah Swift. I see it when I come along wid mah mule,
Boomerang, an' I tried t' git it outer de way, but I couldn't.
Den I left Boomerang an' mah wagon at de foot ob de hill an' I
come up heah t' git a long pole t' pry de log outer de way. I
didn't t'ink nobody would come along, case dis road ain't much
trabeled.
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