"We are selling nothing of the kind to darkies just now, uncle."
"But how I gwine fer kill duck?"
The salesman made him no answer.
Uncle Ephraim stood, looked about for a moment, then slowly sauntered into the street, and made his way to Joslins, in South Front street, but was also refused there. Going again to the corner of Market and Front Streets, he saw several white men and boys enter Sprague & Company and came out armed with shot guns and other fire-arms, and walk briskly away. "De ole boy is gwine to tun heself loose in dis yer town soon; fer I see um in de bery eye ob dese bocra. I can't buy um, but see how de bocra go in an git um. Niggah, hit's time ter look er bout,"—and Uncle Ephraim slowly walked up Front Street towards Morrow's.
CHAPTER III.
The Meeting In The Wigwam.
Three months have passed since the events narrated in the preceeding chapters. Chill winds are heralding the approach of winter. Wilmington is three months nearer its doom. Political warriors are buckling on their armour for the final struggle on the 8th of November which must result in complete victory for white supremacy, or indefinate bondage to Negro Domination (?)