As the gate opened, and the colored brother made his appearance, looking wildly about for Pompey, the latter called out, “Here I is, sar!”
Maddened by the pain from the excoriation of his bleeding back, and the surprise and astonishment at the quickness with which the whole thing had been accomplished, the man ran across the street, upbraiding in the most furious manner his deceiver, who also appeared amazed at the epithets bestowed upon him.
“What have I done to you?” asked Pompey, with a seriousness that was indeed amusing.
“What hain’t you done!” said the man, the tears streaming down his face. “You’ve got my back cut all to pieces,” continued the victim.
“What did you let ’em whip you for?” said Pompey, with a concealed smile.
“You knew that note was to get somebody whipped, and you put it on me. And here is a piece of paper that he gave me, and told me to give it to my master. Just as if I had a master.”
“Well,” responded Pompey, “I have a half a dollar, an’ I’ll give that to you, ef you’ll give me the paper.”
Seeing that he could make no better bargain, the man gave up the receipt, taking in exchange the silver coin.
“Now,” said Pompey, “I’m mighty sorry for ye, an’ ef ye’ll go down to de house, I’ll pray for ye. I’m powerful in prayer, dat I is.” However the free man declined Pompey’s offer.
“I reckon you’ll behave yourself and not spill the wine over gentlemen again,” said Walker, as Pompey handed him the note from the jailor. “The next time you commit such a blunder, you’ll not get off so easy,” continued the speculator.