knows.
We could locate in one of these new towns where they have the river on
one side and the canal on the other, and where everybody has the ague--"

"What do I know about medicine?" inquired Mahaffy.

"As much as Aesculapius, no doubt--even he had to make a beginning. The
torch of science wasn't lit in a day--you must be willing to wait; but
you've got a good sick-room manner. Have you ever thought of opening an
undertaker's shop? If you couldn't cure them you might bury them."

A certain hot afternoon brought them into the shaded main street of a
straggling village. Near the door of the principal building, a frame
tavern, a man was seated, with his feet on the horse-rack. There was no
other sign of human occupancy.

"How do you do, sir?" said the judge, halting before this solitary
individual whom he conjectured to be the 'landlord. The man nodded,
thrusting his thumbs into the armholes of his vest. "What's the name of
this bustling metropolis?" continued the judge, cocking his head on one
side.

As he spoke, Bruce Carrington appeared in the tavern door; pausing
there, he glanced curiously at the shabby wayfarers.

"This is Raleigh, in Shelby County, Tennessee, one of the states of the
Union of which, no doubt, you've heard rumor in your wanderings," said
the landlord.

"Are you the voice from the tomb?" inquired the judge, in a tone of
playful sarcasm.

Carrington, amused, sauntered toward him.

"That's one for you, Mr. Pegloe!" he said.

"I am charmed to meet a gentleman whose spirit of appreciation shows his
familiarity with a literary allusion," said the judge, bowing.

"We ain't so dead as we look," said Pegloe. "Just you keep on to
Boggs' race-track, straight down the road, and you'll find that
out--everybody's there to the hoss-racing and shooting-match. I reckon
you've missed the hoss-racing, but you'll be in time for the shooting.
Why ain't you there, Mr. Carrington?"

"I'm going now, Mr. Pegloe," answered Carrington, as he followed the
judge, who, with Mahaffy and the boy, had moved off.

"Better stop at Boggs'!" Pegloe called after them.

But the judge had already formed his decision.

Horse-racing and shooting-matches were suggestive of that progressive
spirit, the absence of which he had so much lamented at the jail raising
at Pleasantville--Memphis was their objective point, but Boggs' became
a side issue of importance. They had gained the edge of the village when
Carrington overtoo