“'If something isn't done, and done quick,' I heard him say to himself, 'some of the best citizens of this town will lose their lives, and all for a gang of drunken niggers. Something's got to be done, Mr. Mayhew,' he said to me. “'Yes, but _what?_--that's the question,' said I. “Then I saw him act. Without a single weapon in his hand, he stalked as straight as an arrow through the gang of negroes, elbowing them right and left, and went up to the captain and clamped his hand on his shoulder so heavy that I heard it clear across the room. “'Looky' here, you damned white coward!' he said, 'you order them coons out of here in five seconds or, by God, I'll knock every tooth in your head down your throat, and wedge 'em in with your gums. Quick, order, I say!' “The chap was about Pole's height, but he looked like a sapling beside a knotted oak, and he stared through his cigar smoke in astonishment. But Pole's left hand came down with a ringing slap on his shoulder-straps that almost brought the fellow to his knees, and Pole's big fist slid up close to his eyes, and then drew back for a sledge-hammer lick. The fellow blinked, and then with a growl and a sickly look about the mouth he gave the order. The negroes looked at him in astonishment, but Pole waved his big right hand and said, 'Get out! get out of here, and that mighty quick!' They moved slow, to be sure, but they went, the officer standing to one side looking plumb whipped. They had all gone down the steps, and the captain, mad and sullen, was about to follow, when suddenly Pole reached out and caught him by the collar and yanked him right back into the crowd that was surging forward. “'Say, you've got to listen to a speech,' Pole said, still holding to his coat. 'I want to tell you that for a soldier you are the damnedest jackass that ever stood on its hind-legs in blue pants. You are a pretty excuse to send out even in charge of a set of ignorant coons. If it hadn't been for me calling a halt on this thing you'd 'a' had to haul your company to headquarters in a refrigerator-car, and you'd 'a' had that uniform changed to one of tar and feathers. Now, you go on, and when you strike another mountain town you will know what you are up against,' and with that Pole led the chap, who was pretty well scared by that time, to the steps and gave him a shove towards the train. Pole saved the day, and when that crowd of Darley men realized what a riot had been averted they gathered around him and began to praise him extravagantly. Billy Askew ran into his bar and came out with his old dog-eared ledger open at Pole's account, and he held it up and tore the page out. 'No man,' said he, 'can owe _me_ for whiskey that's got that sort of a body to put it in, and Pole Baker from this day on is at liberty to stick his mouth to every bung-hole in my shop.'