by this time--his honour! And I
knew he was going to keep on trying, like he had said. If he had made the
usual excuses that men put up when they've had the worst of it I'd of
known he'd been well licked, and once would be a-plenty. But, seeing that
he was probably the only man who had been honest under such conditions
since the world began, I had a feeling he would keep on. He was sure
going to annoy Ben from time to time, even if he didn't panic him much.
He was just as turbulent as ever. Now he went off and joined a circus,
being engaged to lecture in front of the side show about the world's
smallest midget, and Lulu the snake empress, and the sheep-headed twins
from Ecuador. And Ben could devote the whole summer to his career without
worry. I saw him over at Colfax one day.

"Mark my words; that lad was never cut out for a railroad man," says Ben.
"He lets his emotions excite his head too much. Oh, I give him a good
talking to, by doggie! I says to him: 'Why, you poor little hopeless,
slant-headed, weak-minded idiot, you'--you know I always talk to Ed like
he was my own brother--'what did you expect?' I says. 'I'm quite sorry
for your injuries; but that was the first chance I'd ever had to make a
report and I couldn't write one of these continuous stories about you.
You ought to see that.' And what does he do but revile me for this
commonsense talk! Tightminded--that's what he is; self-headed, not to
say mulish, by doggie! And then pestering round me to have a fist
altercation till I had to give in to keep him quiet, though I'm not a
fighting character. I settled him, all right. I don't know where he is
now; but I hope he has three doctors at his bedside, all looking
doubtful. That little cuss always did contrary me."

I told him Ed had gone with this circus side show. "Side show!" he says.
"That's just where he belongs. He ought to be setting right up with the
other freaks, because he's a worse freak than the living skeleton or a
lady with a full beard--that's what he is. And yet he's sane on every
subject but that. Sometimes he'll talk along for ten minutes as rational
as you or me; but let him hear the word accident and off he goes. But,
by doggie, he won't bother me again after what I give him back of the
Wallace freight shed." "He solemnly promised he would," I says, "when
I saw him last. He was still some turbulent."

And he did bother Ben again, late that fall. When the circus closed he
travelled back a tho