nd waved his pitcher. "Hold up, Parson," he said. "Here's to
them merry maids that got lost in the shuffle. 'Tain't like you to lose
'em."

The suggestion was timely. The song ran to fifty-nine verses, and no
others printable.

Peppers dropped the fiddle and seized the pitcher. "Correct," he roared.
"Here's to 'em. May the Lord bless 'em, an' bind 'em, an' tie their
hands behind 'em, an' put 'em in a place where the devil can't find
'em."

"Nor you," mumbled Ump in the echo.

They drank, and the hunchback eyed his man over the rim of the pitcher.
The throat of the Parson did not move. It was clear that Peppers had
reached the danger line, and, what was fatal to the plan of Ump, he knew
it. He was shamming. The eyes of the hunchback squinted an instant, and
then hardened in his face.

He lowered his pitcher, took a step nearer to the table, and clashed it
against the Parson's pitcher. "The last one," he said, "to Mister Ward,
God bless 'im!"

It was plain that the hunchback having failed to drink Peppers maudlin,
was now deliberately provoking a fight. The bloated face of the Parson
grew purple.

"Woodford!" he roared.

"I said," repeated Ump slowly, "to Mister Ward. An' his enemies, may the
devil fly away with 'em."

Peppers hurled down his pitcher, and it broke into a thousand pieces on
the oak floor. I saw the hunchback's eyes blink. I saw Jud take a step
towards Peppers, but he was too late. Lem Marks made a sign to Malan.
The club-footed giant bounded on Peppers, pinned his arms to his sides,
and lifting him from the table carried him toward the door. A fight in
Roy's tavern was not a part of the plan of Hawk Rufe.

For a moment the Parson's rage choked him, and he fought and sputtered.
Then he began to curse with terrible roaring oaths that came boiling up,
oaths that would have awakened new echoes in the foul hold of any pirate
ship that ever ran.

His bloodshot eyes rolled and glared at the hunchback over the woolly
head of Malan. There seemed to be something in Ump's face that lashed
the drunkard to a fury. I looked at Ump to see what it was, and unless I
see the devil, I shall never see the like of that expression. It was the
face of a perfectly cool imp.

Black Malan carried Peppers through the door as though he were a bushel
of corn in a bag, and I marked the build of this powerful man. His neck
had muscle creases like the folds on the neck of a muley bull. His
shoulders were bigger than Jud'