tfield when he heard that Toby was dead and Benjamin Screws would not, except upon legal compulsion, pay him over the $1,350--Toby's price.
There seems to have been a great deal of distress all around.
Whitfield was distressed for the $1,350; Colonel Hardy was distressed at having only the fatal measles, when he expected a fine field-hand; and dear Benjamin Screws was distressed, because he had, in a thoughtless moment, compromised his character as a negro-broker by disposing of a measly African.
Send me my $1,350, wrote Whitfield.
I can't do it, wrote Benjamin in reply.
Toby, he continued, is dead — of the measles.
I warranted him against the measles and all other cutaneous disorders.
He had one of them, however, and his life has paid the penalty of his audacity.
Hardy says I must pay him and not you.
Whether or not friend Screws ended with d — Toby, we cannot say. Very likely he has, in the most unnecessary manner, consigned Toby to that fate before this.
Well, to ma