His shirt bosom is open, the collar secured at the neck with a short black ribbon; he is much bedaubed with tobacco-juice, which he has deposited over his clothes for the want of a more convenient place.  A gray, slouch hat usually adorns his head, which, in consequence of the thinking it does, needs a deal of scratching.  Reminding us how careful he is of his feet, he shows them ensconced in a pair of Indian moccasins ornamented with bead-work; and, as if we had not become fully conscious of his power, he draws aside his roundabout, and there, beneath the waist of his pantaloons, is a girdle, to which a large hunting-knife is attached, some five inches of the handle protruding above the belt.  “Now, fellers, I tell ye what’s what, ye’r point-up at bragin’; but ye don’t come square up to the line when there’s anything to put through what wants pluck.  ‘Tain’t what a knowin’ ’un like I can do; it’s just what he can larn to be with a little training in things requiring spunk.  I’m a going to have a square horse, or no horse; if I don’t, by the great Davy, I’ll back out and do business on my own account,—­Anthony Romescos always makes his mark and then masters it.  If ye don’t give Anthony a fair showin’, he’ll set up business on his own account, and pocket the comins in.  Now! thar’s Dan Bengal and his dogs; they can do a thing or two in the way of trade now and then; but it requires the cunnin as well as the plucky part of a feller.  It makes a great go when they’re combined, though,—­they ala’s makes sure game and slap-up profit.”

“Hold a stave, Anthony,” interrupted a grim-visaged individual who had just filled his glass with whiskey, which he declared was only to counteract the effect of what he had already taken.  He begs they will not think him half so stupid as he seems, says he is always well behaved in genteel society, and is fully convinced from the appearance of things that they are all gentlemen.  He wears a semi-bandittical garb, which, with his craven features, presents his character in all its repulsiveness.  “You needn’t reckon on that courage o’ yourn, old fellow; this citizen can go two pins above it.  If you wants a showin’, just name the mark.  I’ve seed ye times enough,—­how ye would not stand ramrod when a nigger looked lightning at ye.  Twice I seed a nigger make ye show flum; and ye darn’t make the cussed critter toe the line trim up, nohow,” he mumbles out, dropping his tumbler on the table, spilling his liquor.  They are Graspum’s “men;” they move as he directs-carry out his plans of trade in human flesh.  Through these promulgators of his plans, his plots, his desperate games, he has become a mighty man of trade.  They are all his good fellows-they are worth their weight in gold; but he can purchase their souls for any purpose, at any price!  “Ah, yes, I see-the best I can do don’t satisfy.  My good fellows, you are plum up on business, do the square thing; but you’re becomin’ a little too familiar.  Doing the nigger business is one thing, and choosing company’s another.  Remember, gentlemen, I hold a position in society, I do,” says Graspum, all the dignity of his dear self glowing in his countenance.