“‘Gossett!’ said the White-haired Master—his voice sounded as I have heard it when he was talking to a lazy plough hand—‘Gossett! I will give you fifteen hundred dollars for your bargain.’
“Mr. Gossett shook his head and smiled, showing two or three yellow teeth. I was so anxious to get at him that the Little Master was compelled to slap me with the slack of the bridle reins and bid me stand still.
“‘No,’ said Mr. Gossett, ‘I’d ruther have the nigger than the money.’
“‘I’ll give you two thousand dollars,’ persisted the White-haired Master.
“Mr. Gossett showed his yellow teeth again. ‘Well, sir,’ he said, ‘if he’s worth that to you, he’s worth it to me. The fact is, I want to tame the nigger. They say he’s as wild as a buck, and as hard-headed as a mule. I want to tame him.’
“The White-haired Master turned to the trader. ‘Why did you insult my son and me by refusing to cry his last bid?’ He caught the man by the throat and shook him. The people gave back and scattered a little at this, for in those times men were quick to use their knives and pistols. But the trader had no idea of using his, though he had both in his belt.
“‘Let me explain, sir; let me explain,’ he cried, as the White-haired Master released his hold. ‘That gentleman there said the youngster was only playing me one of his jokes.’
“‘What gentleman?’ the White-haired Master asked, as quick as a flash. He wheeled and looked around, as if searching for some one. The people were still afraid a fight was about to take place, and they stood off some distance, but not so far that they couldn’t hear every word that was said.
“‘What gentleman?’ the White-haired Master repeated, facing the trader.
“The trader went to Mr. Gossett and touched his shoulder so as to make no mistake. ‘This is the gentleman, sir,’ he said.