On the way he kept talking in a half-boisterous manner, though I could detect a mournful strain through it all. Once he wondered if there was a possibility that Bragg had only been stunned, and, stopping the horses, wanted to go back to see. But after thinking about it awhile, he said:-- “No danger of that. He fell out of my grasp as limp as a rag. I held him at arm’s length to represent a gibbet, and my fingers were the rope, for the brute deserved hanging. I was determined that he should die a dishonorable death as well as I. When he is found, there will be marks about his throat as though he had been hanged; his tongue will protrude from his mouth, and his eyes start from their sockets, as they say men look who have been hanged. My only regret is that there was not a crowd present to witness his dog’s death. But the crowd will gather around him to-morrow, and be horrified at his appearance.” Several times he described with pleasure the horrible tragedy in the woods near the ford, hoarsely laughing as he told how Bragg had writhed and struggled in his grasp, and once he asked me to feel the bunch of muscle on the strong arm which had righted his wrong. He told how he had skulked under the trees waiting for their approach, dodging from one to another when he saw them in the road; how he had hidden behind a tree until they were beside him; how Bragg had trembled in fear when he felt his fingers about his throat; how fast and furious the vicious horse ran crashing through the underbrush when he lashed him with a keen hickory withe cut for the purpose, and how he almost shouted in exultation when he had Mateel in his arms. He recited all the sickening particulars with so much pleasure that I feared he was out of his head, and occupied myself in mentally making notes of what he said to prove that he was not responsible for his act. At another time he cried out impatiently:-- “Why don’t you applaud what I have done? You have not said a word all evening, though you usually cry, ‘Brave Jo!’ when I have accomplished a purpose, but you seem ashamed of me now.” “Oh, Jo,” I replied, “you have done an awful thing, and while I know you were wronged by Bragg, I shudder to think of the consequences. I cannot approve of this act, Jo, the first one you ever did at which I could not cry, ‘Brave Jo!’”