dge sank back against the pump with a drunken chuckle: "Dave
Cabarreux thinks that he's dead, hey? Boyer's not the sort of man to die
as long as a good thing like this is in the dice. Why, Boyer's young,
sir. He's got more brains and experience and vitality than all the
damned wooden Cabarreuxes in a lump."

Byloe squirted tobacco-juice skilfully into the puddle between his feet,
and winked at the squire. "It would go dead ag'in' your chances down at
Calhoun's, major, if Dave gets that proputty," he said gravely. "Old
Tony Calhoun is a full-blood Yankee. He'll never give his daughter to a
man with lean pockets."

The major pulled himself up, half sobered as if by a dash of cold water.
"And what has Cabarreux to make him fit for her?" he demanded shrilly.
"Neither money nor brains. No one of the name ever had energy to earn
salt to his bread. Cabarreux? Bah-h! Boyer is a man! Why, gentlemen, if
Peter Marmaduke Boyer were to appear in Sevier, it would be like the
coming of the eagle among the magpies."

"Sam, you're drunk," said Byloe. "What d'ye know about the man?"

"Know Boyer?" He laughed. The major had a peculiar laugh, which always
put the crowd about the pump in a good-humor--a shrill, pleasant cackle
of exultation. "Why, the whole country knows Boyer. But, if you must
know it, he was a personal friend of mine. He had a great intellect--a
gi-gantic intellect," sweeping the horizon with his arm. "He represented
one of the great Western States in the Senate, Mr. Byloe: ten years ago
he was known through the length and breadth of the Union as North
Carolina's favorite son. To have asked who was Peter M. Boyer then would
have argued yourself unknown."

"Sam's right," said the squire, nodding. "Now, that you speak of it, I
remember him perfectly well. He had a great reputation as a politician.
The Raleigh _Herald_ used to publish his speeches _in extenso_. Queer he
took no part in the war!"

The major chuckled again, delighted: "He did, sir! he did! Beauregard
had no braver officer. To see that man lead his command into the teeth
of the Yankees was a spectacle nobody who saw it can ever forget." The
little man stood up as he talked, gesticulating fiercely as if in the
presence of the foe, his linen coat flapping about his legs, his white
hat set jauntily on one side. "Ha! those were pleasant days, squire,"
wiping his forehead in a glow of triumph. "They brought men up to their
proper level! Boyer was never promote