he Colonel, with a certain
patronizing air, 'have you seen my man Moye?'

'Moye, no! What's up with him?'

'He's run away with my horse, Firefly--I thought he would have made for
this station. At what time does the next train go up?'

'Wal, it's due half arter 'leven, but 'taint gin'rally 'long till nigh
one.'

The Colonel was turning to join me at the door, when a well-dressed
young man of very unsteady movements, who was filling a glass at the
counter, and staring at him with a sort of dreamy amazement, stammered
out: 'Moye--run--run a--way, zir! that--k--kant be--by G--d. I
know--him, zir--he's a--a friend of mine, and--I'm--I'm d--d if he an't
hon--honest.'

'About as honest as the Yankees run,' replied the Colonel: 'he's a d--d
thief, sir!'

'Look here--here, zir--don't--don't you--you zay any--thing 'gainst--the
Yankees. D--d if--if I an't--one of 'em mezelf--zir,' said the fellow
staggering toward the Colonel.

'_I_ don't care _what_, you are; you're drunk.'

'You lie--you--you d--d 'ris--'ristocrat--take that,' was the reply, and
the inebriated gentleman aimed a blow, with all his unsteady might, at
the Colonel's face.

The South-Carolinian stepped quickly aside, and dexterously threw his
foot before the other, who--his blow not meeting the expected
resistance--was unable to recover himself, and fell headlong to the
floor. The Colonel turned on his heel, and was walking quietly away,
when the sharp report of a pistol sounded through the apartment, and a
ball tore through the top of his boot, and lodged in the wall within
two feet of where I was standing. With a spring, quick and sure as the
tiger's, the Colonel was on the drunken man. Wrenching away the weapon,
he seized the fellow by the necktie, and drawing him up to nearly his
full hight, dashed him at one throw to the other side of the room. Then
raising the revolver he coolly leveled it to fire.

But a dozen strong men were on him. The pistol was out of his hand, and
his arms were pinioned in an instant; while cries of 'Fair play, sir!'
'He's drunk!' 'Don't hit a man when he's down,' and other like
exclamations, came from all sides.

'Give _me_ fair play, you d--d North-Carolina hounds,' cried the
Colonel, struggling violently to get away, 'and I'll fight the whole
posse of you.'

'One's 'nuff for _you_, ye d--d fire-eatin' 'ristocrat,' said a long,
lean, bushy-haired, be-whiskered individual who was standing near the
counter: 'ef ye wan't