The things we do!

I'm going on up home, beyond St.
Genevieve, and I've got to change down there at Cairo myself, to
take the up-river boat."
"Mulattress?" listlessly inquired Wilson, after grinning at the
coin. "They're the wust. I'd rather handle straight niggers my
own self."
"Well," said Dunwody, "now that you mention it, I don't know but
they would be easier to handle. This prisoner is about as tall as
that girl yonder, and she's a whole lot lighter, do you understand?
Of a dark night--say about the time we'd get down to Cairo,
midnight--well wrapped up, and the face of neither showing, it
might be hard to tell one of them from the other."
"How'll you trade?" grinned Wilson. "Anybody kin git a mighty good
trade for this yaller lady of ours here. If she was mine I'd trade
her for a sack of last year potatoes. I reckon Jedge Clayton'll be
sick enough of her, time he gets expenses of this last trip paid,
gittin' her back."
"I'm not trading," said Dunwody, frowning and flushing.


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