gnorance were an unfailing and weekly joy to the
critical, in spite of the vague distrust they induced in the more
homely-witted, and the dull acquiescence of that minority who accepted
the paper for its respectable exterior and advertisements. I was
somewhat grieved, however, to find that Captain Jim shared equally with
his friend in this general verdict of incompetency, and that some of
the most outrageous blunders were put down to HIM. But I was not
prepared to believe that Lacy had directly or by innuendo helped the
public to this opinion.

Whether through accident or design on his part, Lacy Bassett did not
personally obtrude himself upon my remembrance until a month later.
One dazzling afternoon, when the dust and heat had driven the pride of
Gilead's manhood into the surreptitious shadows of the temperance
hotel's back room, and had even cleared the express office of its
loungers, and left me alone with darkened windows in the private
office, the outer door opened and Captain Jim's friend entered as part
of that garish glitter I had shut out. To do the scamp strict justice,
however, he was somewhat subdued in his dress and manner, and, possibly
through some gentle chastening of epigram and revolver since I had seen
him last, was less aggressive and exaggerated. I had the impression,
from certain odors wafted through the apartment and a peculiar physical
exaltation that was inconsistent with his evident moral hesitancy, that
he had prepared himself for the interview by a previous visit to the
hidden fountains of the temperance hotel.

"We don't seem to have run agin each other since you've been here," he
said with an assurance that was nevertheless a trifle forced "but I
reckon we're both busy men, and there's a heap too much loafing goin'
on in Gilead. Captain Jim told me he met you the day you arrived; said
you just cottoned to the 'Guardian' at once and thought it a deal too
good for Gilead; eh? Oh, well, jest ez likely he DIDN'T say it--it was
only his gassin'. He's a queer man--is Captain Jim."

I replied somewhat sharply that I considered him a very honest man, a
very simple man, and a very loyal man.

"That's all very well," said Bassett, twirling his cane with a
patronizing smile, "but, as his friend, don't you find him considerable
of a darned fool?"

I could not help retorting that I thought HE had found that hardly an
objection.

"YOU think so," he said querulously, apparently ignoring eve