here. I know absolutely nothing about the town, or the
opportunities it may offer. I'm not superstitious, I think, but somehow
this thing impresses me, and to Cairo I shall go--if only to receive Si
Watkins's letter when it comes," he added with a smile.

Then he began a more practical train of thought.

"I've food enough now," he reflected, "to last me scantily for a few
days. During that time I must make my way as far as I can toward the
Ohio River at Pittsburg or Wheeling or Parkersburg. When I reach the
River I must have money enough to pay steamboat fare to Cairo. There is
no money in these parts, but West Virginia is practically a Northern
State, and there are greenbacks there. I'll sell my remaining pistols
there. A little later I'll sell my horse, my saddle, and my bridle. The
horse is a good one, and so is the saddle. Surely I ought to get enough
for them to pay my way to Cairo."

Then came another and a questioning thought:

"And when I get to Cairo? What then? I've a good university education,
but I doubt that there is a ready market for education in any bustling
Mississippi River town, just now. I'm a graduate in law, but Heaven
knows I know very little about the profession aside from the broad
underlying principles. Besides, I shall have no money with which to open
an office, and who is going to employ a wandering and utterly destitute
stranger to take charge of his legal business?"

For the moment discouragement dominated the young man's mind. But
presently there came to him a reflection that gave new birth to his
courage.

"I'm six feet high," he thought, "and broad in proportion. I'm in
perfect physical health. I have muscles that nothing has ever yet tired.
Between the wilderness and Appomattox I have had an extensive experience
in shoveling earth and other hard work. I'm in exceedingly good
training--a trifle underfed, perhaps, but at any rate I carry not one
ounce of superfluous fat on my person. I am perfectly equipped for the
hardest kind of physical work and in a busy western town there is sure
to be work enough of that kind for a strong and willing man to do. I
can at the very least earn enough as a laborer to feed me better than
I've been fed for the four years of war."

Curiously enough, this prospect of work as a day laborer greatly cheered
the young man. Instead of depressing his spirits, it for the first time
lifted from his soul that incubus of melancholy with which every
Confederate