"Captain Wells," repeated Mayhall with a stiff salutation, and the messenger from over Black Mountain fell back with an apologetic laugh. A few minutes later both Mayhall and Flitter Bill saw him shaking his head, as he started homeward toward the Gap. Bill laughed silently, but Mayhall had grown grave. The fun was over and he beckoned Bill inside the store. "Misto Richmond," he said, with hesitancy and an entire change of tone and manner, "I am afeerd I ain't goin' to be able to pay you that little amount I owe you, but if you can give me a little mo' time--" "Captain Wells," interrupted Bill slowly, and again Mayhall stared hard at him, "as betwixt friends, as have been pussonal friends fer nigh onto twenty year, I hope you won't mention that little matter to me ag'in--until I mentions it to you." "But, Misto Richmond, Hence Sturgill out thar says as how he heerd you say that if I didn't pay--" "_Captain_ Wells," interrupted Bill again and again Mayhall stared hard--it was strange that Bill could have formed the habit of calling him "Captain" in so short a time--"yestiddy is not to-day, is it? And to-day is not to-morrow? I axe you--have I said one word about that little matter _to-day?_ Well, borrow not from yestiddy nor to-morrow, to make trouble fer to-day. There is other things fer to-day, Captain Wells." Mayhall turned here. "Misto Richmond," he said, with great earnestness, "you may not know it, but three times since thet long-legged jay-hawker's been gone you hev plainly--and if my ears do not deceive me, an' they never hev--you have plainly called me '_Captain_ Wells.' I knowed yo' little trick whilst he was hyeh, fer I knowed whut the feller had come to tell ye; but since he's been gone, three times, Misto Richmond--" "Yes," drawled Bill, with an unction that was strangely sweet to Mayhall's wondering ears, "an' I do it ag'in, _Captain_ Wells." "An' may I axe you," said Mayhall, ruffling a little, "may I axe you--why you--" "Certainly," said Bill, and he handed over the paper that he held in his hand. Mayhall took the paper and looked it up and down helplessly--Flitter Bill slyly watching him. Mayhall handed it back. "If you please, Misto Richmond--I left my specs at home." Without a smile, Bill began. It was an order from the commandant at Cumberland Gap, sixty miles farther down Powell's Valley, authorizing Mayhall Wells to form a company to guard the Gap and to protect the property of Confederate citizens in the valley; and a commission of captaincy in the said company for the said Mayhall Wells. Mayhall's mouth widened to the full stretch of his lean jaws, and, when Bill was through reading, he silently reached for the paper and looked it up and down and over and over, muttering: "Well--well--well!" And then he pointed silently to the name that was at the bottom of the paper. Bill spelled out the name: