sideration of this ambitious proposition, Mrs.
Cannon threw Cy James, by main strength, through the window of her bar,
into her kitchen, and he bawled like a baby, yet came out of his grief
muttering, "Ploughin', ploughin'! I'll make her into batter and fry her
yet."

With this reflection Mr. James hid himself for the remainder of the
afternoon in some secluded part of the Hotel Johnson.

Mrs. Cannon, however, had instantly resumed her monologue on business.

"They all think to give the old woman the go-by: a sick man's no good,
and there's that wife of Van Dorn's hopin' to git him yit. By God! she
sha'n't have him in his shroud. No; I'll recruit from young material.
Ruin 'em when they's boys, and, while you kin pet 'em, they'll do your
work! I have one nigger in the garret Joe wants to burn: he's my nigger,
and I'll let him loose to bring me more niggers. Money is what I need to
put on a bold front: Huldy must fetch it!"

With this resolution Patty Cannon mounted the stairs to a room on the
second floor, and, without knocking, pushed her way in.

A man of a voluptuous form and face, like one overfed, yet on the best,
and with stiff, military shoulders, and of colors warm in tint, yet cold
in expression, blue eyes, and rich, wine-lined cheeks and lips, that
still seemed hard and self-indulged, spoke up at once:

"Always knock, Patty! it's more conservative. My way in life is to reach
my point, but respect all the forms. What do you want?"

"When do you leave for Baltimore, Cunnil McLane?"

"As soon as Joe returns with my dear sister's property: to-morrow, I
hope."

"You can take Huldy Bruington if you pay my price for her: two thousand
dollars down. If you won't give it, she shall be married to some young
kidnapper, who will fetch twice that pile for her in niggers. They'll
all fight their weight in black wildcats to git her."

"Very, very abrupt proposition, Patty; not conservative at all. What's
the matter with you, dame, to-day. Van Dorn not lucky, heigh?"

He gave her a vitreous smile and watched her over his round paunch, on
which a crystal watch-seal hung, like a more human eye than his own. Her
color began to rise.

"I'm mad," said Patty Cannon; "don't worry me; don't Jew me! Do you
mind? Yes, Van Dorn has been whipped--by niggers, too. Will you pay my
price or not?"

"Tut, tut, good woman! What can I want with a white girl. It wouldn't
look conservative at all in Baltimore."

Patty Cannon stampe