pect, by the way the man glared at that bill, they 're an awfully poor lot up here. No, no, I can't go in," he exclaimed, as I tried to persuade him to go with me. "I don't want to see that infernal face again. I won't forget it now as long as I live. I am thankful I did n't kick him out of the coach. I came near doing it a hundred times. You just manage it all for me, that 's a dear fellow. I 'm going back to the child."
The story of the hundred dollar bill had evidently reached the bar-room before I did. As I entered, the hum of excited conversation was succeeded by a sudden and awkward silence, and I was greeted with a respectfulness whose secret cause I very well knew. The dead body had been carried to an upper room, and the arrangements for the inquest were under discussion. There was no disagreement among the witnesses of the death. The landlord had ordered the hostler and the stable boy to carry the drunken man to a room. On being lifted, he had roused from his sleep, and with a frightful volley of oaths had demanded to be let alone. As they persevered in the attempt to lift him he had drawn the revolver from his pocket, aimed it at random, and tried to fire. In the scuffle, it fell from his hand, went off, and the bullet had passed through his neck, making a ghastly wound, and killing him almost instantly.
It was a horrible night. Not until near dawn did silence settle down on the excited house;
