Cresswell might gamble and drink and lie "like a
gentleman," but he would never willingly cheat or take advantage of a
white man's financial necessities. Taylor, on the other hand, had a
horror of a lie, never drank nor played games of chance, but his whole
life was speculation and in the business game he was utterly ruthless
and respected no one. Such men could never thoroughly understand each
other. To Cresswell a man who had cheated the whole South out of
millions by a series of misrepresentations ought to regard this little
falsehood as nothing.
Meantime Colonel Cresswell's lawyer was on his feet, and he adopted his
most irritating and contemptuous manner.
"This nigger wench wrote out some illegible stuff and Colonel Cresswell
signed it to get rid of her. We are not going to question the legality
of the form--that's neither here nor there. The point is, Mr. Cresswell
never intended--never dreamed of selling this wench land right in front
of his door. He meant to rent her the land and sign a receipt for rent
paid in advance. I will not worry your honor by a long argument to
prove this, but just call one of the witnesses well known to you--Mr.
John Taylor of the Toomsville mills."
Taylor looked toward the door and then slowly took the stand.
"Mr. Taylor," said the lawyer carelessly, "were you present at this
transaction?"
"Yes.
Pages:
418
419
420
421
422
423
424
425
426
427
428
429
430
431
432
433
434
435
436
437
438
439
440
441
442