"And so he should. I know, for my part, I would not be annoyed by the drunken nuisance. I only want a good opportunity to pay a debt I owe him, and then he shall have it with compound interest." Ginsling was quite under the influence of liquor when he made the remark in regard to Barton, and the one to whom he was talking was far from sober. They could both see the mote in Barton's eye, but failed to remove the beams from their own. When Ginsling spoke of owing Barton a debt, he referred to an incident which had occurred some time before. He had been one evening in "The Retreat," which, my readers will remember, was kept by Ben Tims; and while he was there William Barton had come in, just enough intoxicated to be reckless, and Ginsling himself was far from sober. The latter said something which the former eagerly construed into an insult, and to which he replied by knocking him down. Tims had then interfered, and led Barton into another room, leaving Ginsling to stagger to his feet as best he could. The latter, after picking himself up, went to the wash-room and staunched the blood flowing from his nose, which Barton's blow had made more bulbous than usual, washed all traces from his face, and then left; but before he did so, he vowed he would be even with him yet. "You had better look out, Barton," said Tims; "that rascal will have his revenge if you give him any chance, and I believe he is as treacherous as he is cowardly. I'm glad you hit him though, only I'd rather it hadn't happened in my place." "He gave me an opportunity I was waiting for," replied Barton, now seemingly almost sober. "I'll risk all the harm he is likely to do me." Tims knew very well how it was with the poor fellow, but he had too much good taste to refer to it. It was of this bar-room squabble Ginsling spake when he said he "owed him a debt which he was determined to pay back to him with interest." John, jun., who was cognizant of the facts, remarked, "If he were in his (Ginsling's) place, he'd be even with him yet." "I can't help but suspect that he has seen Lou lately, and I am half inclined to think she likes him yet; if she didn't, she would not have used me as she has done to-night." "She may have," said John, jun.; "but the reason she was so huffy to-night was because you were drunk. But who's that?" he suddenly exclaimed--"I believe it is Barton!" As he spoke, he drew back his chair from the window, and gliding therefrom, stealthily crept to where he could observe all Barton's movements, but where the latter could not possibly see him. Ginsling also arose as stealthily as possible, and glided behind John, jun. It was a beautiful moonlight night, and they could see almost as plainly as if it were day. "Yes; it is Barton!" whispered Ginsling; "and I believe he is drunk." "I wonder what the idiot is going to do?" questioned John, jun.; "here he comes towards the house." "Let him come," said Ginsling; "I guess we will be ready for him."