Haley hastened out.  Standing by the bar, in the corner of the room, was a brawny, muscular man, full six feet in height, and broad in proportion.  He was dressed in a coat of buffalo-skin, made with the hair outward, which gave him a shaggy and fierce appearance, perfectly in keeping with the whole air of his physiognomy.  In the head and face every organ and lineament expressive of brutal and unhesitating violence was in a state of the highest possible development.  Indeed, could our readers fancy a bull-dog come unto man’s estate, and walking about in a hat and coat, they would have no unapt idea of the general style and effect of his physique.  He was accompanied by a travelling companion, in many respects an exact contrast to himself.  He was short and slender, lithe and catlike in his motions, and had a peering, mousing expression about his keen black eyes, with which every feature of his face seemed sharpened into sympathy; his thin, long nose, ran out as if it was eager to bore into the nature of things in general; his sleek, thin, black hair was stuck eagerly forward, and all his motions and evolutions expressed a dry, cautious acuteness.  The great man poured out a big tumbler half full of raw spirits, and gulped it down without a word.  The little man stood tiptoe, and putting his head first to one side and then the other, and snuffing considerately in the directions of the various bottles, ordered at last a mint julep, in a thin and quivering voice, and with an air of great circumspection.  When poured out, he took it and looked at it with a sharp, complacent air, like a man who thinks he has done about the right thing, and hit the nail on the head, and proceeded to dispose of it in short and well-advised sips.

“Wal, now, who’d a thought this yer luck ’ad come to me?  Why, Loker, how are ye?” said Haley, coming forward, and extending his hand to the big man.

“The devil!” was the civil reply.  “What brought you here, Haley?”

The mousing man, who bore the name of Marks, instantly stopped his sipping, and, poking his head forward, looked shrewdly on the new acquaintance, as a cat sometimes looks at a moving dry leaf, or some other possible object of pursuit.

“I say, Tom, this yer’s the luckiest thing in the world.  I’m in a devil of a hobble, and you must help me out.”

“Ugh? aw! like enough!” grunted his complacent acquaintance.  “A body may be pretty sure of that, when you’re glad to see ’em; something to be made off of ’em.  What’s the blow now?”

“You’ve got a friend here?” said Haley, looking doubtfully at Marks; “partner, perhaps?”

“Yes, I have.  Here, Marks! here’s that ar feller that I was in with in Natchez.”

“Shall be pleased with his acquaintance,” said Marks, thrusting out a long, thin hand, like a raven’s claw.  “Mr. Haley, I believe?”

“The same, sir,” said Haley.  “And now, gentlemen, seein’ as we’ve met so happily, I think I’ll stand up to a small matter of a treat in this here parlor.  So, now, old coon,” said he to the man at the bar, “get us hot water, and sugar, and cigars, and plenty of the real stuff and we’ll have a blow-out.”