'twas nothing but buttons—more money than Zack had seen since Drif quit fighting.
The negro grinned for better acquaintance sake, "Mister how come you knowed so good my name was Zack?"
"I heard the Colonel call you 'Zack'."
"Huh! You knows de Cunnel?" Zack brightened up for extended conversation,
"I heard you call him Colonel—don't interrupt me." Lykoff spoke peremptorily—Zack loved to hear a white man talk like he meant it. Suddenly Lykoff stopped; he heard a step in the passage, a knock on the door. There was an armor in the cabin for clothes to be hung—Lykoff hid himself inside, and closed it as Zack opened the cabin door in answer to a voice outside, calling, "Zack, where are my glasses?"—it was the Colonel's voice.
"I'll git 'em in a minute, Cunnel." The steps passed on.
Lykoff reappeared from the armor and took out a cigar, a peculiar cigar with a peculiar band. In deep thought he removed the band; it fell to the floor. "Now, Zack," he asked, "do you understand me perfectly?"
"Yas, suh, I sho do."
"You will keep beside your master, and never leave him?"
