gentleman, and they stepped lively."

"Have another drink," said Hal.

The pit-boss drank, and becoming more sociable, told nigger stories. On
the sugar-plantations there was a rush season, when the rule was twenty
hours' work a day; when some of the niggers tried to shirk it, they
would arrest them for swearing or crap-shooting, and work them as
convicts, without pay. The pit-boss told how one "buck" had been brought
before the justice of the peace, and the charge read, "being
cross-eyed"; for which offence he had been sentenced to sixty days' hard
labour. This anecdote was enjoyed by the men in the saloon--whose
race-feelings seemed to be stronger than their class-feelings.

When the pair went out again, it was late, and the boss was cordial.
"Mr. Stone," began Hal, "I don't want to bother you, but I'd like first
rate to get more pay. If you could see your way to let me have that
buddy's job, I'd be more than glad to divide with you."

"Divide with me?" said Stone. "How d'ye mean?" Hal waited with some
apprehension--for if Mike had not assured him so positively, he would
have expected a swing from the pit-boss's mighty arm.

"It's worth about fifteen a month more to me. I haven't any cash, but if
you'd be willing to charge off ten dollars from my store-account, it
would be well worth my while."

They walked for a short way in silence. "Well, I'll tell you," said the
boss, at last; "that old Slovak is a kicker--one of these fellows that
thinks he could run the mine if he had a chance. And if you get to