"
"Did you see Colonel Cresswell sign this paper?"
"Yes."
"Well, did he intend so far as you know to sign such a paper?"
"I do not know his intentions."
"Did he say he meant to sign such a contract?"
Taylor hesitated.
"Yes," he finally answered. Colonel Cresswell looked up in amazement and
the lawyer dropped his glasses.
"I--I don't think you perhaps understood me, Mr. Taylor," he gasped.
"I--er--meant to ask if Colonel Cresswell, in signing this paper, meant
to sign a contract to sell this wench two hundred acres of land?"
"He said he did," reiterated Taylor. "Although I ought to add that he
did not think the girl would ever be able to pay. If he had thought she
would pay, I don't think he would have signed the paper."
Colonel Cresswell went red, than pale, and leaning forward before the
whole court, he hurled:
"You damned scoundrel!"
The Judge rapped for order and fidgeted in his seat. There was some
confusion and snickering in the courtroom. Finally the Judge plucked up
courage:
"The defendant is ordered to deliver this cotton to Zora Cresswell," he
directed.
The raging of Colonel Cresswell's anger now turned against John Taylor
as well as the Negroes. Wind of the estrangement flew over town quickly.
The poor whites saw a chance to win Taylor's influence and the sheriff
approached him cautiously.
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