rescue one of the
prisoners? You've had all your trouble for nothing, and the probability
is that you are out considerable cash first and last. You don't catch
grown men asleep any more. Why, if the officer in charge of those poor
boys were to permit one of them to escape, he'd be court-martialled, and
it would serve him right."

"So it would," replied Mr. Sanders, "an' I'm mighty glad it wa'n't
Captain Falconer. This feller that had the boys in tow is a stranger to
me, an' I'm glad of it. He'll never know who lost him his job. He's a
right nice-lookin' feller, too, but when he run out'n the depot awhile
ago, his face kinder spoke up an' said he had had a dram too much some
time endyorin' of the night; or his colour mought 'a' been high bekaze
he was flurried or skeered. Now, then, Colonel Tom, ef you've done what
you laid off to do, an' I don't misdoubt it in the least, you've got a
safe place wher' I kin store a bale of long-staple cotton, ag'in a rise
in prices. Ef you've got it fixed, I'll drive right in, bekaze the kind
of cotton I'm dealin' in will spile ef it lays in the sun too long."

"Do you mean to tell me----"

"I'm mean enough for anything, Colonel Tom; but right now, I want to
git wher' I can drench a long-sufferin' friend of mine wi' a big
gourdful of cold water."

"But, Mr. Sanders----"

"Ef you'd 'a' stuck in the William H., you'd 'a' purty nigh had my whole
name," remarked Mr. Sanders with a solemn air.

"Why, dash it, man! you've taken my breath away. Drive right in there.
John! Henry! come here, you lazy rascals, and take this team out! I told
you," said Colonel Tom to Mr. Sanders as the negroes came forward, "that
you couldn't get any better prices for your cotton than I offered you.
We treat everybody right over here, and that's the way we keep our
trade."

The two negroes were detailed to convey the mule and the oxen to the
stable where Mr. Sanders had arranged for their "keep," as he termed it,
and as soon as they were out of sight, Mr. Sanders went to the rear of
the waggon, and said playfully, "Peep eye, Gabriel!" Receiving no
answer, he was suddenly seized with the idea that the young man had
suffocated behind the loose cotton which was intended to conceal him.
But no such thing had happened. Gabriel had plenty of breathing-room,
and the practical and unromantic rascal was sound asleep. His quarters
were warm, but the sweat-boxes at Fort Pulaski were hotter. It was very
fortunate for