Big Adam seemed to be very much offended when I looked up from reading the note with a serious face, as he evidently expected that I would be greatly pleased, as he was, but as if to say that if I would not drink with him over his good fortune, he would drink alone, he pulled another cork, and poured out the liquor in very slow and distinct gurgles. “I didn’t suspect my good luck,” Big Adam said, seeing my inquiring look, “until Agnes woke me up this morning, and said the old missus was dead, and wouldn’t I please carry the note to you. I immediately dressed up in my best and started. I think I never enjoyed a ride more. It was equal to an excursion. I hope there is no mistake about it.” Big Adam was about to draw another cork, when I inquired if Mrs. Deming had been ill long. “About a week I should say, and she kept them about her night and day to jaw at, occasionally sending for me. Several times she came down stairs, but no more dried up than usual, so none of us thought anything unusual the matter. She was always complaining about something or other, and although she was undoubtedly bad off this time, we didn’t believe it. We thought she was only pretending, to make us trouble, for she fooled us so much that I have an idea they were all very much surprised when they found her dead at last. It was by the merest accident that Agnes and Biggs were at home. It will be a great day for me to-morrow. I am to drive the remains to the graveyard.” I could not impress Big Adam with the gravity of the occasion, and after telling him that I would go over to Smoky Hill in the afternoon, he went out into town, but returned every little while with packages of pickles, cloves, confectionery, crackers, etc., which he spread out on my table and devoured with the greatest relish, precisely as if he were at a pic-nic. Usually he was followed by great troupes of boys, whom he hired to swear with his pickles and confectionery. While he was out on the porch, I heard him say to one of them that he hadn’t an enemy in the world, but if he had, he would like to hear the boy curse him, for up to that time he had won all the prizes with his dreadful oaths and was the raggedest and dirtiest of the lot. He was arranging for a fight between two of them, when I mildly objected to it, whereupon Big Adam laughed with hoarse good humor, and said that while he didn’t know of an enemy, he might have one, and gave the wicked boy a pickle and a caramel to curse him, or her, as the case might be. The young scoundrel promptly responded with the vilest language I had ever heard, and Big Adam laughed so loudly that I thought the house would fall down, declaring that the boy was a “captain.” I knew what he was about, but he seemed to be enjoying himself so much that I did not interfere again. At last he said he was certain the boy’s curses had killed his enemy, and he called upon all of them to give three cheers, which they did, Big Adam joining in like a steamboat whistle.