wn powerful on your pap, that's sart'in. Sez he
to me: 'Loh! that's the ornary whelp ov the devil that cussed me. Old's
I am I'd like to fight him, fur the sake o' the man that I knowed onct.
I feel my young blood a-risin'; he looks so mighty like Boone Randolph.'
But I tole him he war a fool to talk ov fightin' yer; ye'd whip him all
ter flinders."

"I wouldn't fight him, of course: he's too old for me. And then he's
just married, too, isn't he? I have no wish to make that young woman a
widow."

"A widow!" said Kentuck, laughing. "That girl's name is Anne Matheny;
but she ain't Bob's wife, not by a long shot. Why, she's Bob's darter,
as has just come out to see her old pap."

"Well, I like that. I am less than ever inclined to fight the man who
owns such a daughter. I must find a way to make friends with him, even
if I have to quarrel with him to do it. Good-night, Kentuck. Pleasant
dreams to you."

Gentleman Bill felt more than ordinarily wide-awake, whether it was from
the novel excitement of the brief encounter with Matheny or not. When
Kentuck had left him, he stood for some time irresolute, with no wish
for rest, and no desire to go anywhere in particular. He looked up to
the sky. It was murky with filmy fog-clouds and dust not yet settled to
the earth. Not a star was visible in the whole arch of heaven. He looked
down the street, and his eyes, accustomed to the darkness, could just
faintly distinguish the outlines of the wagons that crowded it. Every
sound was hushed, except the occasional movement of a restless animal,
or the deep sighing of a sleeping one. Not a light was burning anywhere
along the street. While gazing aimlessly into the gloom he saw, all at
once, as if lighted by a flash from the sky, a sudden illumination
spring up, and a column of flame stand erect over the Traveler's Rest.

Now, Wilson's Bar did not boast a fire company. At some seasons of the
year, had a fire broken out, there would have been a chance of its
extinguishment, inflammable as were the materials of which the place was
built; but just after the long, hot summer, when the river was all but
dried up, and every plank in houses, fences, and sidewalks so much
tinder, a fire that should get under headway would have everything its
own way. Seeing the danger, Gentleman Bill started down the street on a
run, shouting, in his clarion tones, that ever-thrilling cry of "Fire!
fire! fire!" till it seemed to him he must wake the dead. Bu