“But, then, they’ll fix the whole business on my head.  Won’t Brooks and Tongs say where they got drunk, and then shan’t I be in a scant fixin’?”

“They dare not.  They won’t confess themselves drunk—­it’s as much as their place is worth.  They will say nothing till they got sober, and then they’ll get up some story that will hurt nobody.”

“But—­”

“But what? will you never cease to but against obstacles?  Are you a man—­are you ready—­bent to do what you can?  Speak out, and let me know if I can depend on you,” exclaimed the landlord, impatiently.

“Now, don’t be in a passion!  You’re as soon off as a fly-machine, and a thought sooner.  Why, didn’t I say, now, I’d go my length for the young gentleman?  And I’m sure I’m ready, and aint at all afeared, no how.  I only did want to say that, if the thing takes wind, as how it raaly stood, it spiles all my calkilations.  I couldn’t ’stablish a consarn here, I guess, for a nation long spell of time after.”

“And what then? where’s your calculations?  Get the young fellow clear, and what will his friends do for you?  Think of that, Bunce.  You go off to Carolina with him, and open store in his parts, and he buys from you all he wants—­his negro-cloths, his calicoes, his domestics, and stripes, and everything.  Then his family, and friends and neighbors, under his recommendation—­they all buy from you; and then the presents they will make you—­the fine horses—­and who knows but even a plantation and negroes may all come out of this one transaction?”

“To be sure—­who knows?  Well, things do look temptatious enough, and there’s a mighty deal of reason, now, in what you say.  Large business that, I guess, in the long run.  Aint I ready?  Let’s see—­a gallon of whiskey—­aint a gallon a heap too much for only three people?”

“Better have ten than want.  Then there must be pipes, tobacco, cigars; and mind, when they get well on in drinking, I shall look to you through that window.  Be sure and come to me then.  Make some pretence, for, as Brooks may be slow and cautious, I shall get something to drop into his liquor—­a little mixture which I shall hand you.”

“What mixture?  No pizen, I hope!  I don’t go that, not I—­no pizening for me.”

“Pshaw! fool—­nonsense!  If I wanted their lives, could I not choose a shorter method, and a weapon which I could more truly rely upon than I ever can upon you?  It is to make them sleep that I shall give you the mixture.”

“Oh, laudnum.  Well, now why couldn’t you say laudnum at first, without frightening people so with your mixtures’?—­There’s no harm in laudnum, for my old aunt Tabitha chaws laudnum-gum jest as other folks chaws tobacco.”

“Well, that’s all—­it’s only to get them asleep sooner.  See now about your men at once.  We have no time to lose; and, if this contrivance fails, I must look about for another.  It must be done to-night, or it can not be done at all.  In an hour I shall return; and hope, by that time, to find you busy with their brains.  Ply them well—­don’t be slow or stingy—­and see that you have enough of whiskey.  Here’s money—­have everything ready.”