—Street.

Enter MARKS, R. 1 E., meeting CUTE, who enters L. 1. E., dressed in an old faded uniform.

  By the land, stranger, but it strikes me that I've seen you somewhere before.

  By chowder! do you know now, that's just what I was a going to say?

  Isn't your name Cute?

  You're right, I calculate. Yours is Marks, I reckon.

  Just so.

  Well, I swow, I'm glad to see you. [They shake hands.] How's your wholesome?

  Hearty as ever. Well, who would have thought of ever seeing you again. Why, I thought you was in Vermont?

  Well, so I was. You see I went there after that rich relation of mine— but the speculation didn't turn out well.

  How so?

  Why, you see, she took a shine to an old fellow—Deacon Abraham Perry—and married him.

  Oh, that rather put your nose out of joint in that quarter.

  Busted me right up, I tell you. The Deacon did the handsome thing though, he said if I would leave the neighborhood and go out South again, he'd stand the damage. I calculate I didn't give him much time to change his mind, and so, you see, here I am again.

  What are you doing in that soldier rig?

  Oh, this is my sign.

  Your sign?

  Yes; you see, I'm engaged just at present in an all-fired good speculation, I'm a Fillibusterow.

  A what?

  A Fillubusterow! Don't you know what that is? It's Spanish for Cuban Volunteer; and means a chap that goes the whole perker for glory and all that ere sort of thing.

  Oh! you've joined the order of the Lone Star!

  You've hit it. You see I bought this uniform at a second hand clothing store, I puts it on and goes to a benevolent individual and I says to him,—appealing to his feelings,—I'm one of the fellows that went to Cuba and got massacred by the bloody Spaniards. I'm in a destitute condition—give me a trifle to pay my passage back, so I can whop the tyrannical cusses and avenge my brave fellow sogers what got slewed there.

  How pathetic!

  I tell you it works up the feelings of benevolent individuals dreadfully. It draws tears from their eyes and money from their pockets. By chowder! one old chap gave me a hundred dollars to help on the cause.

  I admire a genius like yours.

  But I say, what are you up to?

  I am the traveling companion of a young gentleman by the name of Shelby, who is going to the plantation of a Mr. Legree of the Red River, to buy an old darkey who used to belong to his father.

  Legree—Legree? Well, now, I calculate I've heard that ere name afore.

  Do you remember that man who drew a bowie knife on you in New Orleans?

  By chowder! I remember the circumstance just as well as if it was yesterday; but I can't say that I recollect much about the man, for you see I was in something of a hurry about that time and didn't stop to take a good look at him.

  Well, that man was this same Mr. Legree.

  Do you know, now, I should like to pay that critter off!

  Then I'll give you an opportunity.

  Chowder! how will you do that?

  Do you remember the gentleman that interfered between you and Legree?

  Yes—well?

  He received the blow that was intended for you, and died from the effects of it. So, you see, Legree is a murderer, and we are only witnesses of the deed. His life is in our hands.

  Let's have him right up and make him dance on nothing to the tune of Yankee Doodle!

  Stop a bit. Don't you see a chance for a profitable speculation?

  A speculation! Fire away, don't be bashful, I'm the man for a speculation.

  I have made a deposition to the Governor of the state on all the particulars of that affair at Orleans.

  What did you do that for?

  To get a warrant for his arrest.

  Oh! and have you got it?

  Yes; here it is.

  Well, now, I don't see how you are going to make anything by that bit of paper?

  But I do. I shall say to Legree, I have got a warrant against you for murder; my friend, Mr. Cute, and myself are the only witnesses who can appear against you. Give us a thousand dollars, and we will tear the warrant and be silent.

  Then Mr. Legree forks over a thousand dollars, and your friend Cute pockets five hundred of it, is that the calculation?

  If you will join me in the undertaking.

  I'll do it, by chowder!

  Your hand to bind the bargain.

  I'll stick by you thro' thick and thin.

  Enough said.

  Then shake.

  But I say, Cute, he may be contrary and show fight.

  Never mind, we've got the law on our side, and we're bound to stir him up. If he don't come down handsomely we'll present him with a neck-tie made of hemp!

  I declare you're getting spunky.

  Well, I reckon, I am. Let's go and have something to drink. Tell you what, Marks, if we don't get him, we'll have his hide, by chowder!

[Exeunt, arm in arm, R. 1 E.