"Mr. Seddon, you should not speak irreverently of bald heads," said the Professor. "Remember the forty irreverent young lads and the she-bears, and learn that bald-headed people are under the especial protection of Providence. I am partially bald myself, and am under the impression that this calamity came upon me in consequence of my having once deprived an unfortunate individual of his hair." "Did what?" exclaimed Toney. "On one occasion I helped to scalp a man," said the Professor, gravely and mournfully. "Helped to scalp a man!" exclaimed Seddon. "I am sorry to say that I did, Mr. Seddon," said the Professor. "How was it?" asked Toney. "It is a strange story," said the Professor. "Let us have it," said Seddon. "Some years ago," said the Professor, "I was on a steamboat going down one of the large rivers in the South-west. The boat stopped at a landing and a big fellow came on board. He was a rough, unpolished individual, with long hair reaching down to his shoulders. He appeared to be in a bad humor with himself and with all mankind; being one of those peculiar specimens of humanity who believe that the whole duty of man is to fight. As soon as he came on board it was apparent to the passengers that he was a bully in quest of a quarrel. But everybody avoided him, and for a long while he was unsuccessful in finding what he was seeking for. Finally, however, his perseverance was amply rewarded. The bell rang for dinner, and there was a rush for the saloon. The bully seated himself at the head of the table. At intervals, among the dishes, were a number of apple-pies. 'Waiter,' exclaimed the bully, 'bring me that pie.' It was placed before him. 'And that one,' said he. The waiter obeyed, and the bully reiterated his order until he had every apple-pie on the table directly under his nose." "The glutton!" said Toney. "Did he eat all the pies?" asked Tom. "No, Mr. Seddon, he did not," said the Professor. "Having collected all the pies before him, he sternly glanced at the two rows of indignant faces along the table. He saw anger in every eye; a frown upon every brow; but not a word had been spoken. There was a dead silence, when the bully brought down his fist on the table with tremendous force, and fiercely shouted, 'I say that any man who don't like good apple-pie is a d--d rascal!' This was more than human nature could endure. In an instant every man was on his feet. The table was overturned, and hams, and turkeys, and roast-pigs rolled on the floor. There was a general fight. Pistols exploded, bowie-knives were brandished, and fists flourished!" "All endeavoring to get at the daring monopolizer of the apple-pies, I suppose?" said Tom. "By no means, Mr. Seddon," said the Professor. "There was promiscuous fighting. Many who had no opportunity of dealing a blow at the bully, fought and pommeled one another. I retreated to a corner." "But what became of the bully?" asked Toney.