"Mister," said he addressing the stylish looking clerk, who at first
barely glanced at the lad, "I was sent here from Columbia to see a man
who stops here called Captain Gary. That nigger over there, when I
asked him where the man was, told me to hunt him up myself. I never
was in your tavern before. How can I find him, I'd like to know?"

Before Ralph had concluded, the clerk was inspecting his person
curiously. Ralph again thought of his clothes.

"I don't look very stylish," said he, "and I know it; but I've got
business with Captain Gary all the same."

"Front!" called the clerk, without addressing Ralph.

A smart mulatto boy, uniformed in blue and red, sprang from a bench
where several others similarly clad were seated.

"Show this--this person to forty nine," directed the clerk, then turned
to another inquirer as if he had already forgotten Ralph's existence.

"There's one thing certain," thought the lad, as he followed the call
boy down a long hall, up one flight of stairs and into a richly
carpeted corridor, "we mountain folks can beat these city dudes on
manners, if we can't in anything else."

The boy knocked at a door and a voice almost feminine in musical
softness bade them "Come in."

"Some one to see yo', suh," said the messenger, pushing Ralph inside