"Garden Spot bonds! Bosh! Road begins nowhere and ends nowhere. If any
set of fools built it, the only freight it would get, outside of peanuts
and sweet potatoes, would be razor-back hogs and niggers. I wouldn't
give a yellow dog for enough of those securities to paper a church."

The colonel was on his feet in an instant.
"Mr. Klutchem, I cannot permit you, suh, to use such language in my
presence unrebuked; you"--

"Now, see here, old Garden Spot, you know"--

The familiarity angered the colonel even more than the outburst.

"Caarter, suh,--George Fairfax Caarter," said the colonel with dignity.

"Well, Caarter, then," mimicking him, perhaps unconsciously. "You
know"--

The intonation was the last straw. The colonel lost all control of
himself. No man had ever thus dared before.

"Stop, Mr. Klutchem! What I know, suh, I decline to discuss with you.
Yo' statements are false, and yo' manner of expressin' them quite in
keepin' with the evident vulga'ity of yo' mind. If I can ascertain
that you have ever had any claim to be considered a gentleman you will
hear from me ag'in. If not, I shall rate you as rankin' with yo' yallar
dog; and if you ever speak to me ag'in I will strike you, suh, with
my cane."