We had put up the horse, Alf had gone to see a friend of his and I was walking past a vacant lot when some one shouted at me, and, turning round, I saw a man coming toward me. "Helloa, there," he said, coming up, smiling. "You ought not to forget your old friends." "Oh," I replied, recalling his face, "you are the agent at the station where I got off the train." "Yes, used to be," he said, shaking hands with me, "but I'm over here now, but not as a railroad agent, for there's no road here. I am the honored and distinguished telegraph operator of this commercial emporium. Couldn't stay over yonder any longer. No calico--not a rag there. Got to see the flirt of calico. See that?" A woman was passing. "You can stand here and see it going along all the time, and you've got to be mighty respectful toward it, I tell you, for there's a shot-gun in every house and a father or a brother more than ready to pull both triggers at once. That's right, I suppose; but it does hamper a fellow mightily. Ever in St. Louis? That's the place. Muslin and soft goods everywhere and nine chances to one there ain't a gun in the house. Might be, you know, but there is so much mull and moriantique and all that sort of thing that there ain't guns enough to go round, so you can smile and nod on the street; but you can't do it here. Here you've got to have a three-ply, doubled and twisted introduction before you can smile even at cottonade. I've been here a week, and hold about the most responsible position in the town, and society hasn't taken me up yet, but I reckon it will after a while. I reckon you could get in all right. They have heard all about your fight--know that you are game, and nothing counts more than that, for they have an idea that a game fellow is always a gentleman." Just then a boy came up and told him that there was a call. "I'll be there after a while," the operator replied. "Go on back. I've been pitching horse-shoes with some fellows," he continued, speaking to me, "and ain't quite through yet. I'll have to teach him so that he will be able to tell them that I'm busy when I'm not there. I've found out that what we want in this life is leisure. People are getting too swift. There's no need of half the telegraphing that's done. Why don't they write and save trouble and expense? There goes a nice piece of calico. I must get acquainted with it, too, I tell you. Well, believe I'll stroll on back. Come in while you're here. The trial won't take up much of your time. It's all pretty much cut and dried, anyway."