When, to
make the expenses, ye comes into a place like ours, and runs up a
credit score,--when ye gets so lofty that ye can't tell fifty from
five, we puts a sealer on, so customers don't forget in the
morning." The modest gentleman presents to M'Carstrow's astonished
eyes a note for twenty-seven hundred dollars, with the genuine
signature. M'Carstrow takes it in his hand, stares at it, turns it
over and over. The signature is his; but he is undecided about the
manner of its getting there, and begins to give expression to some
doubt.
The gentleman watches M'Carstrow very cautiously. "Straight!
colonel-he says-just turn out the shiners, or, to 'commodate, we'll
let ye off with a sprinkling of niggers."
The colonel puts the fore-finger of his left hand to his lips, and,
with serious countenance, walks twice or thrice across the hall, as
if consulting his dignity: "Shell out the niggers first; we'll take
the dignity part a'ter," he concludes.
"I demand to know how you came in my house," interrupts the colonel,
impatiently. He finds himself in very bad company; company southern
gentlemen never acknowledge by daylight.
"We brought you here! Anything else you'd like to know?" is the
cool, sneering response. The gentleman will take a pinch of snuff;
he draws his fancy box from his pocket, gives the cover a polite rap
with his finger, invites the enraged M'Carstrow to "take." That
gentleman shakes his head,--declines. He is turning the whole affair
over in his head, seems taking it into serious consideration.
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