I closed up the game, and then Sam Aliways and myself
took a turn around the town, and running into a saloon, met the
big bully. He had his coat off and a six-shooter a foot long
hanging to his side; so, edging up to where he stood, I tapped him
on the shoulder, observing:

"You are the gentleman that is looking for a fight."

As soon as he saw who it was, he grabbed for his shooting-iron;
but just as he got hold of the handle, I dealt him a blow in the
neck and he fell over against the counter, but I soon grabbed him
and hit him a butt with my head. That ended the fight. He had
sense enough to say, "That will do;" and seeing a policeman coming
in one door, I went out another, hastened to the hotel and paid my
bill, and caught the train for Covington. I was none too quick,
however; for the next day when Aliways came along with my tools,
he said that the fellow had a host of friends in the town, and that
at least fifty fellows came around armed with case-knives, axes,
double-barreled shotguns, revolvers, and rocks; and that if they
had caught me, I would have met a fate worse than the martyr Stephen
or the Chicago anarchists.

The fellow went by the name of Bill Legrets. When he was asked
why he didn't shoot me, he said:

"Shoot h--l. The first lick he hit me, I thought my neck was
disjointed; and when he ran that head into me, I though it was a
cannon-ball."

Bob Linn was dealing up stairs at the time, and he afterwards said
that when the bloody duffer fell to the floor, that all the checks
on the table trembled like aspen leaves. Poor fellow! He is dead
now, having been shot in Paris a few years since.

WITH A POKER.

Once when traveling in the West, and winning some money from a man
from Kansas City, some smart Aleck told him that I had cheated him,
so he made up his mind to kill me on sight. I made some inquiries,
and ascertained that he was a desperate man and had already killed
his two men. Accordingly I put my gun in my pocket and staid about
the town, just keeping my eyes on the lookout, and at last went up
to Omaha.

I was sitting one evening playing the bank, having forgotten all
about the Kansas City man, when a friend of mine came to me and
said that the man was in the adjoining room, and would soon be in
to play faro. I lost no time in making my preparations to meet
the gentleman. My friend had no pistol, nor had I; but seeing a
poker lying on the floor near the stove, I rushed for