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The "nigger," seeing Dusenberry approach him, waited until he saw his hand extended, and then, as if to save himself from impending danger, ran aft and into the cabin, screaming at the top of his voice. The crew began to run and move up into close quarters. The issue was an important one, and rested between South Carolina and the little "nigger." Dusenberry attempted to descend into the cabin.
"There's a right good lot of comrades there, me boy; ye'll have fiddling and dancing, plenty of gals, and a jolly time; and ye a'n't a criminal, ye know, so it won't be any thing at all, only keep up a stiff under-lip. Come, let us take another drink; I feel mighty husky this morning!" said he. Just at this time Dusenberry re-entered, puffing and blowing as if he had been engaged in a foot-race.
Nature in her wildest moments never abhorred a vacuum in her dominion as Miss Dusenberry resents it in a trunk. "Benella," I said, in that mysterious whisper which one uses for such communications, "Dr. La Touche has asked Miss Peabody to marry him, and she has consented." "It was full time!" the Derelict responded, with a deep sigh of relief, "but better late than never!
As for Captain Hiram Baker, he hurried home, his conscience reproving him for remaining so long away from his wife and poor little Hiram Joash, more familiarly known as "Dusenberry." Mrs. Baker met her husband at the door. "How is he?" was the Captain's first question. "Better, hey?" "No," was the nervous answer. "No, I don't think he is. His throat's terrible sore and the fever's just as bad."
The poor fellow struggled and begged for more than ten minutes, and was wellnigh overpowering them, when Dusenberry drew a long dirk-knife from his bosom, and holding it in a threatening attitude at his breast, uttered one of those fierce yells such as are common to slave-hunters, whose business it is to hunt and run down runaway niggers with bloodhounds.
She was a wonder, that boat. Red hull, real lead on the keel, brass rings on the masts, reef points on the main and fore sail, jib, flying jib and topsails, all complete. And on the stern was the name, "Dusenberry. East Harniss." Captain Hiram set her down in front of him on the floor. "Gee!" he exclaimed, "won't his eyes stick out when he sees that rig, hey?
"Who pay de drink vat shu get?" inquired the Dutchman, anxious to serve two little niggers who had just come in with bottles in their hands. "It was our friend's treat; come, my good fellow, do the clean thing according to Southern science. We'll put a good word in for you to the jailer; you won't lose nothing by it," said Dusenberry.
I'm the only agent of Seventeen Patent Medicine Proprietors in Connecticut represented by the firm of Dilworth & Dusenberry, of San Francisco. Mebbe you heard of 'em afore A1 druggists and importers.
We're always so careful of Dusenberry, as if he was made out of thin china, that we get fidgety when there's no need of it. We mustn't be foolish." After supper Mrs. Baker tiptoed into the bedroom. She emerged with a very white face. "Hiram," she whispered, "he acts dreadful queer. Come in and see him."
How they passed themselves off for gentlemen, we are at a loss to comprehend. During the day, the Messrs. Dusenberry and Dunn may be seen at times watching about the wharves, and again in low grog-shops then pimping about the "Dutch beer-shops and corner-shops" picking up, here and there, a hopeful-looking nigger, whom they drag off to limbo, or extort a bribe to let him go.
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