When I asked him about the hunchback he said he knew right where he was; but there was no hurry, and tried to get up a wrestling match between me and a man twice my size who made a specialty of hauling salt, and bragged that he could take a barrel of it by the chimes, and lift it into his dray.

I told him that I was in a great hurry and begged to be let off; but while I was talking they had made up a purse of twenty-one shillings to be wrestled for by us two.

I finally persuaded the drayman to show me the hunchback's tavern, and promised to come back and wrestle after I had found him; to which the stake-holder agreed, but all the rest refused to consent, and the money was given back to the subscribers.

The drayman, Bill and I went off together to find the tavern--which we finally did.
It was a better tavern than we were used to, and I was a little bashful when I inquired if a man with a black beard was stopping there, and was told that there were several.
"What's his name ?" asked the clerk.
"'E's a hunchback," said Bill--I had been too diffident to describe him so.
"Mr.Wisner, of Southport, Wisconsin," said the clerk, "has a back that ain't quite like the common run of backs.

Want to see him ?" He was in a nice room, with a fire burning and was writing at a desk which opened and shut, and was carried with him when he traveled.