send me three whiskies. Bring
back the change, and make has'e."

The captain tossed the half dollar at Jerry, who, looking to one side,
of course missed it. He picked the money up, however, and backed out of
the room. Jerry did not like Captain McBane, to begin with, and it was
clear that the captain was no gentleman, or he would not have thrown the
money at him. Considering the source, Jerry might have overlooked this
discourtesy had it not been coupled with the remark about the change,
which seemed to him in very poor taste.

Returning in a few minutes with three glasses on a tray, he passed them
round, handed Captain McBane his change, and retired to the hall.

"Gentlemen," exclaimed the captain, lifting his glass, "I propose a
toast: 'No nigger domination.'"

"Amen!" said the others, and three glasses were solemnly drained.

"Major," observed the general, smacking his lips, "_I_ should like to
use Jerry for a moment, if you will permit me."

Jerry appeared promptly at the sound of the bell. He had remained
conveniently near,--calls of this sort were apt to come in sequence.

"Jerry," said the general, handing Jerry half a dollar, "go over to Mr.
Brown's,--I get my liquor there,--and tell them to send me three glasses
of my special mixture. And, Jerry,--you may keep the change!"

"Thank y', gin'l, thank y', marster," replied Jerry, with unctuous
gratitude, bending almost double as he backed out of the room.

"Dat's a gent'eman, a rale ole-time gent'eman," he said to himself when
he had closed the door. "But dere's somethin' gwine on in dere,--dere
sho' is! 'No nigger damnation!' Dat soun's all right,--I'm sho' dere
ain' no nigger I knows w'at wants damnation, do' dere's lots of 'em w'at
deserves it; but ef dat one-eyed Cap'n McBane got anything ter do wid
it, w'atever it is, it don' mean no good fer de niggers,--damnation'd
be better fer 'em dan dat Cap'n McBane! He looks at a nigger lack he
could jes' eat 'im alive."

"This mixture, gentlemen," observed the general when Jerry had returned
with the glasses, "was originally compounded by no less a person than
the great John C. Calhoun himself, who confided the recipe to my father
over the convivial board. In this nectar of the gods, gentlemen, I drink
with you to 'White Supremacy!'"

"White Supremacy everywhere!" added McBane with fervor.

"Now and forever!" concluded Carteret solemnly.

When the visitors, half an hour later, had taken their departure,