"Let me in, Liz," said he, in a thick voice; "I want the old man to fork
over some money--I'm cleaned out."
"No, no--go to bed, George," she answered, coaxingly, "and talk to him
about it in the morning."
"I'm coming in _now_," said he, determinedly; "and besides, I want to tell
you something about that nigger Garie."
"Tell us in the morning," persisted Lizzy.
"No--I'm going to tell you now," rejoined he, forcing his way into the
room--"it's too good to keep till morning. Pick up that wick, let a fellow
see if you are all alive!"
Lizzie raised the wick of the lamp in accordance with his desire, and then
sat down with an expression of annoyance and vexation on her countenance.
George threw himself into an easy chair, and began, "I saw that white
nigger Garie to-night, he was in company with a gentleman, at that--the
assurance of that fellow is perfectly incomprehensible. He was drinking at
the bar of the hotel; and as it is no secret why he and Miss Bates parted,
I enlightened the company on the subject of his antecedents. He threatened
to challenge me! Ho! ho!--fight with a nigger--that is too good a joke!"
And laughing heartily, the young ruffian leant back in his chair. "I want
some money to-morrow, dad," continued he.
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