ass, marched into his store, bringing with them Mr. Davies,
the Vermont colporteur, who had been flourishing his note-book in the
faces of the inhabitants. Jake, Mr. Walthall's body-servant, was
prominent in the crowd by reason of his color and his frightened
appearance. The colporteur was very pale, but he seemed to be cool. As
the last one filed in, Mr. Walthall stepped to the front door and shut
and locked it.

Compton was too amazed to say anything. The faces before him, always so
full of humor and fun, were serious enough now. As the key turned in the
lock, the colporteur found his voice.

"Gentlemen!" he exclaimed with some show of indignation, "what is the
meaning of this? What would you do?"

"You know mighty well, sir, what we ought to do," cried Major Bass. "We
ought to hang you, you imperdent scounderl! A-comin' down here
a-pesterin' an' a-meddlin' with t'other people's business."

"Why, gentlemen," said Davies, "I'm a peaceable citizen; I trouble
nobody. I am simply traveling through the country selling books to those
who are able to buy, and giving them away to those who are not."

"Mr. Davies," said Mr. Jack Walthall, leaning gracefully against the
counter, "what kind of books are you selling?"

"Religious books, sir."

"Jake!" exclaimed Mr. Walthall somewhat sharply, so sharply, indeed,
that the negro jumped as though he had been shot. "Jake! stand out
there. Hold up your head, sir!--Mr. Davies, how many religious books did
you sell to that nigger there last night?"

"I sold him none, sir; I--"

"How many did you _try_ to sell him?"

"I made no attempt to sell him any books; I knew he couldn't read. I
merely asked him to give me some information."

Major Jimmy Bass scowled dreadfully; but Mr. Jack Walthall smiled
pleasantly, and turned to the negro.

"Jake! do you know this man?"

"I seed 'im, Marse Jack; I des seed 'im; dat's all I know 'bout 'im."

"What were you doing sasshaying around in his room last night?"

Jake scratched his head, dropped his eyes, and shuffled about on the
floor with his feet. All eyes were turned on him. He made so long a
pause that Alvin Cozart remarked in his drawling tone:

"Jack, hadn't we better take this nigger over to the calaboose?"

"Not yet," said Mr. Walthall pleasantly. "If I have to take him over
there I'll not bring him back in a hurry."

"I wuz des up in his room kaze he tole me fer ter come back en see 'im.
Name er God, Marse Jack, w'at ail'