In this procedure the last of the party now followed suit,--the Honorable William Jones, state senator from Belmont, Missouri.

Seating himself, the latter now in turn began shuffling a pack between fingers short, puffy, freckled and experienced.

His stooped shoulders thrust forward a beardless round face, whose permanently arched eyebrows seemed to ask a continuous question, his short, dark hair receded from a high forehead, and a thick mid-body betokened alike middle age and easy living.

A planter of the back country, and a politician, his capital was a certain native shrewdness and little else.

Of course, in company such as this, and at such a day, the conversation must drift toward the ever fruitful topic of slavery.
"No, sir," began the Honorable William Jones, indulging himself in the luxury of tobacco as he addressed his companions, "there ain't no doubt about it.