rowdy young Hyde brothers and
their harmless old uncle: one of them held the old man down with his
knees on his breast while the other one tried repeatedly to kill him
with an Allen revolver which wouldn't go off. I happened along just
then, of course.

Then there was the case of the young California emigrant who got drunk
and proposed to raid the "Welshman's house" all alone one dark and
threatening night.[11] This house stood half-way up Holliday's Hill
("Cardiff" Hill), and its sole occupants were a poor but quite
respectable widow and her young and blameless daughter. The invading
ruffian woke the whole village with his ribald yells and coarse
challenges and obscenities. I went up there with a comrade--John Briggs,
I think--to look and listen. The figure of the man was dimly risible;
the women were on their porch, but not visible in the deep shadow of its
roof, but we heard the elder woman's voice. She had loaded an old musket
with slugs, and she warned the man that if he stayed where he was while
she counted ten it would cost him his life. She began to count, slowly:
he began to laugh. He stopped laughing at "six"; then through the deep
stillness, in a steady voice, followed the rest of the tale: "seven ...
eight ... nine"--a long pause, we holding our breath--"ten!" A red spout
of flame gushed out into the night, and the man dropped, with his breast
riddled to rags. Then the rain and the thunder burst loose and the
waiting town swarmed up the hill in the glare of the lightning like an
invasion of ants. Those people saw the rest; I had had my share and was
satisfied. I went home to dream, and was not disappointed.

My teaching and training enabled me to see deeper into these tragedies
than an ignorant person could have done. I knew what they were for. I
tried to disguise it from myself, but down in the secret deeps of my
heart I knew--and I _knew_ that I knew. They were inventions of
Providence to beguile me to a better life. It sounds curiously innocent
and conceited, now, but to me there was nothing strange about it; it was
quite in accordance with the thoughtful and judicious ways of Providence
as I understood them. It would not have surprised me, nor even
over-flattered me, if Providence had killed off that whole community in
trying to save an asset like me. Educated as I had been, it would have
seemed just the thing, and well worth the expense. _Why_ Providence
should take such an anxious interest in such a p