The horse-trade with Buck was discussed. Had he gotten the best of Buck? Several contended that he should have kept the horse and would have done so had he not been afraid of the gang. Others were of the opinion that he did not want the horse, and several declared him a good fellow for knowing where to quit joking. There were graver considerations than this, however. "Ever see a man that had any guts totin' rabbits around in his pockets?" Ole Bar questioned sharply. "I seen a feller once that packed a couple of wild cats about with him--but rabbits--_rabbits_----" and language failed to express his disgust. "And he don't drink no whiskey." "And Jo Kelsy says he never carries a gun." "Don't never go gamin'?" "No," answered Jo Kelsy, "he ain't never been no hunter." "Hain't never killed nothin'?" Ole Bar questioned in amazement. "Not just fer fun. Once he killed a pant'er what dropped on him without saying nothin'. He ketched it around the neck and choked its eyes out and skinned it. He said he wouldn't have bothered it if it hadn't acted so nasty and climbed his frame without warnin'." There was silence. No such case had come up for discussion. Here was a young giant who could strangle a panther--perhaps a bear. Yet he didn't bother them if they let him alone, and he carried new-born rabbits in his pocket, and didn't drink whiskey. "Offutt's got him put up against any man in Sangamon County; says he can out-run, out-wrestle, out-throw, out-whip the best man that can be put up. He's bragged till folks has forgot about Jack Armstrong of Clary Grove." The eyes of the company turned to Jack Armstrong, the champion wrestler of Sangamon County. Built square as an ox, his mighty muscle gave the suggestion of the monarchy of muscular force. Added to his force of muscle was unusual quickness, and added to this, as the Clary Grove crowd knew, was the art of a trick that was held permissible by the gang as a last resort in holding championship of the county. "What about it, Jack?" Kit Parsons asked. "I'll wrastle him." "He's different from anything you've gone up against. Jo Kelsy saw him lift a whiskey barrel and let a feller drink out of the bung hole one day when he was in the store." "The Lord's truth," Jo answered solemnly. "And Buck Thompson says he histed a chicken coop that weighed five or six hundred pounds and set her down on the other side of the yard, nobody lendin' a hand." "The Lord's truth," Buck answered. "And Ole Bar says they was having some sort of a contest down at the mill when he first come here--some sort of a stone-moving tussle--and Abe Lincoln let them strap him like a hoss and moved a thousand pounds. Hey, Ole Bar?" "I ain't sayin' nothin', only I seen it done." "I can whip any man on Sangamon River." It was Armstrong who spoke.