"No? Hunt's Sam?"
"Yes, the very same; and I suppose that's his cantankerous old master."
Surrey ran forward to Jim, for the three had fallen back when the carriage came near, and said a few sentences to him quickly and earnestly.
"All right, Colonel! just as you please," he replied. "You leave it to me; I'll fix him." Then, turning to Sam, who stood waiting, demanded, "Well, have you got it?"
"Yes, massa."
"Fork over,"—and looking at it a moment pronounced "All right! Move on!" elucidating the remark by a jerk at the coat-collar of the unsuspecting Sam, which sent him whirling up the road at a fine but uncomfortable rate of speed.
"Now, sir, what do you want?" addressing the astounded chevalier, who sat speechlessly observant of this unlooked-for proceeding.
"Want?" cried the irate Virginian, his anger loosening his tongue, "want? I want to go on, of course; that was my pass."
"Was it now? I want to know! that's singular! Why didn't you offer it yourself then?"
"Because I thought my nigger a fitter person to parley with a Lincoln vandal," loftily responded his eminence.