Sometimes my thoughts took a private turn of their own,
branching off.
"Mr. Thorold," said I, "do you know Mr. Davis, of
Mississippi?"
"Davis? No, I don't know him," he said shortly.
"You have seen him?"
"Yes, I have seen him often enough; and his wife, too."
"Do you like his looks?"
"I do not."
"He looks to me like a bad man —" I said slowly. I said it to
Mr. Thorold; I would hardly have made the remark to another at
West Point.
"He is about bad business —" was my companion's answer. "And
yet — I do not know what he is about; but I distrust the man."
"Mr. Thorold," said I, beginning cautiously, "do you want to
have slavery go into the territories?"
"No," said he. "Do you?"
"No. What do you think would happen if a Northern President
should be elected in the fall?"
"Then slavery would _not_ go into the territories," he said,
looking a little surprised at me. "The question would be
settled."
"But do you know some people say — some people at the South
say — that if a Northern President is elected, the Southern
States will not submit to him?"
"Some people talk a great deal of nonsense," said Mr.
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