‚ÄúFirst,‚Äù he said, ‚Äúget an injunction on the cotton‚ÅÝ‚Äîthen go to court.‚Äù And to insure the matter he slipped over and saw the Judge.
Colonel Cresswell next day stalked angrily into his lawyers’ office.
“See here,” he thundered, handing the lawyer the notice of the injunction.
“See the Judge,” began the lawyer, and then remembered, as he was often forced to do these days, who was Judge.
He inquired carefully into the case and examined the papers. Then he said:
“Colonel Cresswell, who drew this contract of sale?”
“The black girl did.”
“Impossible!”
‚ÄúShe certainly did‚ÅÝ‚Äîwrote it in my presence.‚Äù
“Well, it’s mighty well done.”
“You mean it will stand in law?”
“It certainly will. There’s but one way to break it, and that’s to allege misunderstanding on your part.”
Cresswell winced. It was not pleasant to go into open court and acknowledge himself overreached by a Negro; but several thousand dollars in cotton and land were at stake.
“Go ahead,” he concurred.
“You can depend on Taylor, of course?” added the lawyer.