"Whoop-ee!"--and the farmer gave vent to a wild howl of rage. "Hurray fer Jefferson! Damn the Democrats! Shove me, will ye? I'll learn ye! I'm a cross betwixt a streak of chain-lightning and a bear-cat! I was sired by a thunderbolt an' riz by an alligator an' I eats rattlers fer breakfast--whoop-ee!" With which peroration he gave the riverman no chance for the usual exchange of personal history, but with an astonishingly accurate blow for a drunken man landed his right on the riverman's jaw. His two companions instantly fell upon the second riverman and with a whirlwind of blows and dust and flashing knives and yells, all five drove out into the street and left the sidewalk clear. "Come, sir"--and Norton felt Ayres pluck his arm. "They will lodge the two men in jail, but we must not be detained as witnesses." In a flash the real meaning of the scene broke upon the Louisianian, and with a grunt he strode off beside Ayres. Something most amazing must have happened in the city of Louisville, he thought. A week previously, mention of Blacknose had been enough to get a man his death; now, two members of the mysterious gang were openly assaulted in the streets! His last view of the combat, through the gathering crowd, showed one of the farmers perched on the body of a riverman and industriously gouging for the eyes of his enemy in true border fashion. Five minutes later Norton found himself led toward a good-sized brick house which stood back from the street amid spacious gardens. This, announced Ayres, belonged to Mr. Tarascon, a prominent merchant, who expected Norton as his guest. Comprehending dimly that the schoolmaster must have moved with tremendous activity in his absence, the Louisianian strode up the steps to be greeted quietly by a small elderly Frenchman--no other than the owner of the place. He was unmarried, it appeared, and when Norton addressed him in his own tongue, he cried effusively that the house no longer belonged to him but to his honoured guest. Moreover, the words were quite sincere. The afternoon being practically over, Tarascon and Ayres accompanied Norton to his room--a spacious bedroom on the ground floor, and there left him with a darkie to attend his personal wants, and a great variety of clothes to choose from. With a sigh of relief, Norton bathed and discarded his buckskin for a plum-coloured suit; he was a gentleman once more in place of a woods rover; and when he inspected the cravat which the grinning darkie had adjusted, he could scarce believe that at daybreak he had been sitting in a canoe with an acknowledged Indian-slayer, rifle in hand. The day was far from done, however. When he was dressed, the negro ted him through a dark corridor to two rooms blazing with candles: one a dining-room of gigantic size, the other an equally large music-room. Still blinking at the lights, Norton found his hand gripped by Audubon and then perceived that he had come into a gathering of men.