I works seven hundred niggers; then, again, I come out a
distant relation of Henry Clay, or some old cock in Kentuck. Talents is different, you know. Now, Tom's a roarer when there's any thumping or fighting to be done; but at lying he an't good, Tom an't,—ye see it don't come natural to him; but, Lord, if thar's a feller in the country that can swear to anything and everything, and put in all the circumstances and flourishes with a longer face, and carry't through better 'n I can, why, I'd like to see him, that's all! I b'lieve my heart, I
could get along and snake through, even if justices were more particular than they is. Sometimes I rather wish they was
more particular; 't would be a heap more relishin' if they was,—more fun, yer know."
Tom Loker, who, as we have made it appear, was a man of slow thoughts and movements, here interrupted Marks by bringing his heavy fist down on the table, so as to make all ring again. "It'll do!" he said.
"Lord bless ye, Tom, ye need n't break all the glasses!" said Marks; "save your fist for time o' need."
"But, gentlemen, an't I to come in for a share of the profits?" said Haley.
"An't it enough we catch the boy for ye?" said Loker. "What do ye want?"
"Wal," said Haley, "if I gives you the job, it's worth something,—say ten per cent. on the profits, expenses paid."
"Now," said Loker, with a tremendous oath, and striking the table with his heavy fist, "don't I know you, Dan Haley? Don't you think to come it over me! Suppose Marks and I have taken up the catchin' trade, jest to 'commodate gentlemen like you, and get nothin' for ourselves?—Not by a long chalk! we'll have the gal out and out, and you keep quiet, or, ye see, we'll have both,—what's to hinder? Han't you
