"Are you hurt?" asked Tom as he leaned his motor-cycle against thefence and stood beside the negro.
"Hurt?" repeated the darky. "I'se killed, dat's what I is! I ain'tgot a whole bone in mah body! Good landy, but I suttinly am in aawful state! Would yo' mind tellin' me if dat ar' mule am stillalive?"
"Of course he is," answered Tom. "He isn't hurt a bit. But why can'tyou turn around and look for yourself?"
"No, sah! No, indeedy, sah!" replied the colored man. "Yo' doan'tcatch dis yeah nigger lookin' around!"
"Why not?"
"Why not? 'Cause I'll tell yo' why not. I'm so stiff an' I'm sonearly broke t' pieces, dat if I turn mah head around it suah willtwist offen mah body. No, sah! No, indeedy, sah, I ain't gwine t'turn 'round. But am yo' suah dat mah mule Boomerang ain't hurted?"
"No, he's not hurt a bit, and I'm sure you are not. I didn't strikeyou hard, for I had almost stopped my machine. Try to get up. I'mpositive you'll find yourself all right. I'm sorry it happened."
"Oh, dat's all right. Doan't mind me," went on the colored man. "Itwas mah fault fer gittin in de road. But dat mule Boomerang amsuttinly de most outrageous quadruped dat ever circumlocuted."
"Why do you call him Boomerang?" asked Tom, wondering if the negroreally was hurt.
"What fo' I call him Boomerang? Did yo' eber see dem Australianblack mans what go around wid a circus t'row dem crooked sticks deycalls boomerangs?"
"Yes, I've seen them."
"Well, Boomerang, mah mule, am jest laik dat. He's crooked, t' beginwid, an' anudder t'ing, yo' can't never tell when yo' start him wharhe's gwine t' land up. Dat's why I calls him Boomerang."
"I see. It's a very proper name. But why don't you try to get up?"
"Does yo' t'ink I can?"
"Sure. Try it. By the way, what's your name?"
"My name? Why I was christened Eradicate Andrew Jackson AbrahamLincoln Sampson, but folks most ginnerally calls me EradicateSampson, an' some doan't eben go to dat length. Dey jest calls meRad, fo' short."
"Eradicate," mused Tom. "That's a queer name, too. Why were youcalled that?"
"Well, yo' see I eradicates de dirt. I'm a cleaner an' a whitewasherby profession, an' somebody gib me dat name. Dey said it were fittenan' proper, an' I kept it eber sence. Yais, sah, I'se EradicateSampson, at yo' service. Yo' ain't got no chicken coops yo' wantscleaned out, has yo'? Or any stables or fences t' whitewash? Iguarantees satisfaction."
"Well, I might find some work for you to do," replied the younginventor, thinking this would be as good a means as any of placatingthe darky. "But come, now, try and see if you can't stand. I don'tbelieve I broke any of your legs."
"I guess not. I feels better now. Where am dat work yo' was speakin'ob?" and Eradicate Sampson, now that there seemed to be a prospectof earning money, rose quickly and easily.
"Why, you're all right!" exclaimed Tom, glad to find that theaccident had had no serious consequences.
"Yais, sah, I guess I be. Whar did yo' say, yo' had somewhitewashin' t' do?"
"No place in particular, but there is always something that needsdoing at our house. If you call I'll give you a job."
"Yais, sah, I'll be sure to call," and Eradicate walked back towhere Boomerang was patiently waiting.
Tom told the colored man how to find the Swift home, and wasdebating with himself whether he ought not to offer Eradicate somemoney as compensation for knocking him into the air, when he noticedthat the negro was tying one wheel of his wagon fast to the body ofthe vehicle with a rope.
"What are you doing that for?" asked Tom.
"Got to, t' git downhill wid dis load ob fence posts," was theanswer. "Ef I didn't it would he right on to de heels ob Boomerang,an' wheneber he feels anyt'ing on his heels he does act wuss dan acircus mule."
"But why don't you use your brake? I see you have one on the wagon.Use the brake to hold back going downhill."
"'Scuse me, Mistah Swift, 'scuse me!" exclaimed Eradicate quickly."But yo' doan't know dat brake. It's wuss dan none at all. It doan'twork, fer a fact. No, indeedy, sah. I'se got to rope de wheel."
Tom was interested at once. He made an examination of the brake, andsoon saw why it would not hold the wheels. The foot lever was notproperly connected with the brake bar. It was a simple matter toadjust it by changing a single bolt, and this Tom did with tools hetook from the bag on his motor-cycle. The colored man looked on inopen-mouthed amazement, and even Boomerang peered lazily around, asif taking an interest in the proceedings.
"There," said Tom at length, as he tightened the nut. "That brakewill work now, and hold the wagon on any hill. You won't need torope the wheel. You didn't have the right leverage on it."
"'Scuse me, Mistah Swift, but what's dat yo' said?" and Eradicateleaned forward to listen deferentially.
"I said you didn't have the right leverage."
"No, sah, Mistah Swift, 'scuse me, but yo' made a slight mistake. Iain't never had no liverage on dis yeah wagon. It ain't dat kind oba wagon. I onct drove a livery rig, but dat w............