some years ago, along with his partner Gouge, in the supply of the southern market with slaves. The headquarters of their traffic was at Augusta. McGrab scoured the more northern slave states, attending sheriffs' and executors' sales, and driving such private bargains as he could to keep up the supply, which he forwarded from time to time to his partner Gouge, who attended chiefly to the business of selling at Augusta. But the partnership had been many years dissolved, and McGrab himself a long time dead. Gouge was still living at Augusta, retired from business, and one of the wealthiest men in the place.
"I ought to know something," he added aside to me, "of these men and their business, for in my younger days I was three or four years their clerk and bookkeeper, and for a while their partner. I owe old Gouge a grudge, and if you have any claim against them, and I can any way assist you, you shall be welcome to my services."
The stage coach stopped for dinner at a dirty, uncomfortable tavern, the management of which seemed to be altogether in the hands of the slaves, of whom there was a great superabundance, the landlord being a sort of gentleman guest in his own house. The head servant of the establishment, a large, portly, soft-spoken mulatto, but very shabbily and dirtily dressed, seemed, for some reason or other, — perhaps from my politeness to him, — to take quite a fancy to me. After dinner he called me aside, and inquired if I was acquainted with the gentleman who had sat opposite to me at the table. ‘This was the supposed planter, my stage companion, in his younger days, as he had informed us, clerk and bookkeeper and afterwards partner of Gouge and McGrab.
