'He'm in de darky trade; leff de darkies handle him!' cried Ally, seizing Hallet by the collar, and dragging him toward the pond. The face of the great merchant turned ghastly pale. Paralyzed with fear, he made no resistance. Pressing rapidly through the crowd, and tossing Ally aside as if he had been a bundle of feathers, Larkin was at Hallet's side in an instant. Planting himself before him, and drawing his revolver, he cried out: 'Far play, gentlemen, far play. He's a cowardly scoundrel, but he shill hev far play, or my name ain't Jake Larkin!' Instinctively the crowd fell back a few paces, and Larkin, with more coolness, continued: 'Th' only man yere thet's got anything ter say in this bis'ness ar Joe Preston; an' _he'll_ guv even a Yankee far play. Woan't ye, Joe?' he cried. Then, turning quickly to his partner, he added: 'Ye didn't know th' kunditions, Mr. Hallet, did ye? Speak quick.' 'No--I--didn't know I was--giving offence,' stammered Hallet, looking in the direction in which Larkin's eyes were turned. Selma had taken the auctioneer's chair, and Joe stood, with folded arms, glaring on Hallet. 'Come, Joe,' continued Larkin, 'I've done ye a good turn ter-day. Let him off, an' put it ter my 'count.' 'As you say, Larkin; but he must withdraw his bid, and leave the ground at once.' 'I withdraw it, sir,' said Hallet, in a cringing tone, clinging fast to the negro trader. 'Doan't hold on so tight, Mr. Hallet. Lord bless ye! nary one yere'll hurt ye; they'm gentler'n lambs--ha! ha! But when ye want anuther gal, doan't ye come _yere_ fur yer darter-in-law--ha! ha!' Putting his arm within Hallet's, he then attempted to press through the crowd; but the blood of the chivalry had risen, and, spite of Joe's remarks, they showed no inclination to let the Yankee off so cheaply. Forming a solid wall around him, they blocked Larkin's way at every turn, and cries of 'Let him alone, Larkin!' 'Cool him off, boys!' 'Doan't ye spile th' fun, Larkin!' 'Guv th' feller a little hosspitality!' echoed from all directions. Putting up his revolver, Larkin turned to them, and said, in the mildest and blandest tone conceivable: 'Thet's right, boys--ye _orter_ hev some fun; but this gintleman's sick. Doan't ye see how pale he ar? He couldn't stand it, nohow. But thar's a feller thet kin,' pointing to Mulock, who stood looking on, at the outer edge of the crowd. 'Ef ye're spilin' fur sport, ye moight try yer hand on him!' 'Yas, he'm de man!' cried Ally. 'He holped whip de young missus. He telled on har fur twenty dollar. He'm de man!' Mulock did not seem to realize, at once, that he was the subject of these remarks. The moment he did, he sprang out of the crowd, and darted off for the woods at the top of his speed. A hundred men followed him, with cries of 'Mount, head him off!' 'Five dollars ter th' man thet kotches him!' 'Take him, dead or alive!' Amid the universal excitement and confusion that followed, Larkin walked rapidly away with Hallet.