"But you have not told me how you came by this scalp," said Lamar, taking up the large black scratch with curled locks. "Oh! you see, I grabbled that in the scuffle, and slipped it into my pocket." "How did you get away from the officers?" "Oh! that's the way I lost the old 'home-made;' you see they began to pull me over the benches, and I told 'em I would walk myself if they would let me, and so they did, but they held on to my coat. I kept pretty cool until they got outside of the house, and then a crowd gathered round, and they began cologueing together, until I saw my way out a little, and then I jist slipped my foot behind one of 'em and pushed him down, and tumbled the other feller over him, and then I showed them a clean pair of heels. They raised the whoop--and I raised my tail like a blue-lick buck, for you see I had'nt much coat to keep it down;--dash me if it was'nt tail all the way to the collar, and stood out straight behind like it was afraid of my pantaloons. I made a few turns to throw 'em off the trail, and then with a curly whoop, and a hurrah! for old Kentuck, I got to my own door, where I found the black-leg chap. Now you know the whole business, and I suppose you can tell me whether there is any danger of their finding me out in that little excuse for a coat that blasted tailor, who was so stingy with his cloth, made me." "I should suppose there was none in the world. Have no fear on that head; there is not a magistrate in town who would not honour you in his heart for what you did." "I should think so too, if they had any gals of their own. The fact is, if there was a little knockin down and draggin out once in a while among them dandy chaps, they would take better care how they sleeved decent men's daughters." "Well, good day, Damon," said Lamar; "send for me or Chevillere if you get into trouble." CHAPTER V. It will readily be perceived, by the reader, that Beverley Randolph, the person to whom the following letter was written, is one of the three southerns. VICTOR CHEVILLERE TO B. RANDOLPH. Baltimore, 18--. "DEAR RANDOLPH,