"I have a valise that will answer, if there is room."
"Plenty. Let Isam have the check and he will get it." While Morgan was feeling for his bit of brass Isam continued:
"Miss Annie will be mighty glad to see you. Sent me in here now goin' on fo' times an' gettin' madder——"
"That's all right; here's the check; hurry up." The negro started off rapidly.
"Drive by the club, Isam," he said, when the negro had resumed the lines. "I reckon we'll be too late for supper at home; better get it in town."
"Miss Mary save supper for you, sho', Marse Norton."
"Save, the mischief! Go ahead!" The single horse moved forward in a dignified trot.
As they entered the club several young men were grouped near a center table. There was a vista of open doors, a glimmer of cards and the crash of billiards. Montjoy walked up and dropped his hat on the table. There followed a general handshaking. Edward Morgan noticed that they greeted him with cordiality. Then he saw his manner change and he turned with a show of formality.
"Gentlemen, this is my friend, Mr. Morgan, a nephew of Col. John Morgan." He rapidly pronounced the names of those present, and each shook the newcomer's hand. At the same time Morgan felt their sudden scrutiny, but it was brief. Montjoy rang the bell.
"What are you going to have, gentlemen? John," to the old waiter, "how are you, John?"