rs coming, grinned painfully, pulling his straggly red and white
beard nervously. The strain was beginning to tell on his iron nerves.
He removed the cap, and with a few muttered words went back to the
game, but there was a dangerous gleam in his fishy blue eyes, and the
grizzled tufts of red hair above his eyes lowered threateningly. A man
who is getting swamped in a game of checkers is not in a mood to bear
pleasantly any remarks on his bald head.

"Oh! don't take it off, Colonel," went on his tormentor hospitably.
"When a man gets as old as you are, he's privileged to wear his cap. I
wonder if any of you fellers have noticed how the Colonel is shedding
his hair."

The old man leaped up, scattering the men on the checker-board which
flew up and struck Judge Gordon in the face, knocking him off his
stool. The old Colonel was ashy pale, and his eyes glared out from
under his huge brow like sapphires lit by flame. His spare form
clothed in a seedy Prince Albert frock towered with a singular
dignity. His features worked convulsively a moment, and then he burst
forth like the explosion of a safety valve:--

"Shuttup, dumyeh!"

And then the crowd whooped, roared, and rolled on the counters and
barrels, and roared and whooped again. They stamped and yelled, and
ran around like fiends, kicking the boxes and banging the coal-scuttle
in a perfect pandemonium of mirth, leaving the old man standing there
helpless in his wrath, mad enough to shoot. Steve was just preparing
to seize the old man from behind, when Judge Gordon, struggling to his
feet among the spittoons, cried out, in the voice of a Colonel of
Fourth of July militia:--

"H-O-L-D!"

Silence was restored, and all stood around in expectant attitudes to
hear the Judge's explanation. He squared his elbows, shoved up his
sleeves, puffed out his fat cheeks, moistened his lips, and began
pompously:--

"Gentlemen--"

"You've hit it; that's us," said some of the crowd in applause.

"Gentlemen of Rock River, when in the course of human events, rumor
had blow'd to my ears the history of the checker-playing of Rock
River, and when I had waxed Cerro-Gordo, and Claiborne, and Mower,
then, when I say to my ears was borne the clash of resounding arms in
Rock River, the emporium of Rock County, then did I yearn for more
worlds to conquer, and behold, I buckled on my armor and I am here."

"Behold, he is here," said Foster, in confirmation of the statement.
"Good for you,