Even that was not all. For four years no woman in the South had possessed a new gown, or new handkerchiefs, or a new toothbrush, or a new set of window curtains, or a new comb, or new linen for her beds, or new shoes of other than plantation make, or a new ribbon or bit of lace, or anything else new. Now that the northern market was open for the sale of cotton the country merchants of the South were besieged for all these and a hundred other things, and their orders for goods from the North added mightily to the freight piles on the levee at Cairo. As Guilford Duncan emerged from the alley-way between the cotton bales and reached the street at top of the levee, a still burning fragment of the fireworks fell upon a bale of which the bagging was badly torn, exposing the lint cotton in a way very tempting to fire. With the instinct of the soldier he instantly climbed to the top of the pile, tore away the burning bunches of lint cotton, and threw them to the ground, thus preventing further harm. As he climbed down again a man confronted him. "Are you a watchman?" asked the man. "No, I'm only a man in search of work." "Why did you do that, then?" queried the stranger, pointing to the still burning cotton scattered on the ground. "On general principles, I suppose," answered Duncan. "There would have been a terrible fire if I hadn't." "What's your name?" "Guilford Duncan." "Want work?" "Yes." "What sort?" "Any sort--for good wages." That last phrase was the result of his stoker experience. "Well, do you want to watch this cotton to-night and see that no harm comes to it, either from fire, or--what's worse--the cotton thieves that go down the alleys, pulling out all the lint they can from the torn bales?" "Yes, if I can have fair wages." "Will three dollars for the night be fair wages?" "Yes--ample. How far does your freight extend up and down the levee?" "It's pretty nearly all mine, but I have other watchmen on other parts of it. This is a new cargo. Your beat will extend----" and he gave the young man his boundaries. "You'll be off duty at sunrise. Come to me at seven o'clock for your pay. I'm Captain Will Hallam. Anybody in Cairo will tell you where my office is. Good-night." This was an excellent beginning, Duncan thought. Three dollars was more money than he had carried in his pocket at any time since he had bought his suit of clothes at Wheeling. Better still, the promptitude with which employment had thus come to him was encouraging, although the employment was but for a night. And when he reflected that he had won favor by doing what seemed to him an act of ordinary duty, he was disposed to regard the circumstance as another lesson in the new service of work.