“Eh! yes, massa Richard,” said the black, a little confused; for, as
Richard did all the flogging, he stood in great terror of his master,
in the main—” Yes, sir, I b’lieve he be.”

“Had he a pack and an axe?”

“No, sir, only he rifle.”

“Rifle!” exclaimed Richard, observing the confusion of The negro,
which now amounted to terror. “By Jove, he killed the deer! I knew
that Marmaduke couldn’t kill a buck on the jump—how was it, Aggy? Tell
me all about it, and I’ll roast ‘Duke quicker than he can roast his
saddle—how was it, Aggy? the lad shot the buck, and the Judge bought
it, ha! and he is taking the youth down to get the pay?”

The pleasure of this discovery had put Richard in such a good humor,
that the negro’s fears in some measure vanished, and he remembered the
stocking of Santa Claus. After a gulp or two, he made out to reply;

“You forgit a two shot, sir?”

“Don’t lie, you black rascal!” cried Richard, stepping on the snow-
bank to measure the distance from his lash to the negro’s back; “speak
truth, or I trounce you.” While speaking, the stock was slowly rising
in Richard’s right hand, and the lash drawing through his left, in the
scientific manner with which drummers apply the cat; and Agamemnon,
after turning each side of himself toward his master, and finding both
equally unwilling to remain there, fairly gave in. In a very few
words he made his master acquainted with the truth, at the same time
earnestly conjuring Richard to protect him from the displeasure of thc