CHAPTER XLVIII. WAR TO THE KNIFE. CHAPTER XLIX. PREPARING THE MINE. CHAPTER L. SLIPPERY DICK RIGHTS A WRONG. CHAPTER LI. A WOMAN'S WIT CONQUERS. CHAPTER LII. DEATH OF COL. MONTJOY. CHAPTER LIII. THE ESCAPE OF AMOS ROYSON. CHAPTER LIV. HOW A DEBT WAS PAID. CHAPTER LV. THE UNOPENED LETTER. CHAPTER LVI. "WOMAN, WHAT WAS HE TO YOU?" CHAPTER LVII. FRAGMENTARY LIFE RECORDS. CHAPTER LVIII. "THE LAST SCENE OF ALL" SONS AND FATHERS CHAPTER I. TWO SONS. At a little station in one of the gulf states, where the east and west trains leave and pick up a few passengers daily, there met in the summer of 1888 two men who since they are to appear frequently in this record, are worthy of description. One who alighted from the west-bound train was about 29 years of age. Tall and slender, he wore the usual four-button cutaway coat, with vest and trousers to match, which, despite its inappropriateness in such a climate, was the dress of the young city man of the south, in obedience to the fashion set by the northern metropolis. His small feet were incased in neat half-moroccos, and his head protected by the regulation derby of that year. There was an inch of white cuffs visible upon his wrists, held with silver link buttons, and an inch and a half of standing collar, points turned down. He carried a small traveling bag of alligator skin swung lightly over his left shoulder, after the English style, and a silk umbrella in lieu of a cane. This man paced the platform patiently. His neighbor was about the same age, dressed in a plain gray cassimer suit. He wore a soft felt traveling hat and the regulation linen. He was, however, of heavier build, derived apparently from free living, and restless, since he moved rapidly from point to point, speaking with train hands and others, his easy, good-fellow air invariably securing him courtesy. His face was full and a trifle florid, but very mobile in expression; while that of the first mentioned was somewhat sallow and softened almost to sadness by gray eyes and long lashes. As they passed each other the difference was both noticed and felt. The impressions that the two would have conveyed to an analyst were action and reflection. Perhaps in the case of the man in gray the impression would have been heightened by sight of his two great commercial traveling bags of Russia leather, bearing the initials "N. M. Jr." There was one other passenger on the platform--a very handsome young woman, seated on her trunk and trying to interest herself in a pamphlet spread upon her lap, but from time to time she lifted her face, and when the eyes of the man glanced her way she lowered hers with a half-smile on her lips. There was something in his tone and manner that disarmed reserve. An officer in uniform came from the little eating-house near by and approached the party. "Are there any passengers for the coast here?" he asked.