"Three and the d--l!" broke in the Captain. "What, have you raised on _your_ wood, too? I'll give you _three_, and not a cent more." "Well," replied the petticoat, "here comes the old man--_he'll_ talk to you." And, sure enough, out crept from the cottage the veritable faded hat, copperas-colored pants, yellow countenance and two weeks' beard we had seen the night before, and the same voice we had heard regulating the price of cottonwood squeaked out the following sentence, accompanied by the same leer of the same yellow countenance: "Why, darn it all, Capting, there is but three or four cords left, and _since it's you_, I don't care if I _do_ let you have it for _three_--_as you're a good customer_!" After a quick glance at the landmarks around, the Captain bolted, and turned in to take some rest. The fact became apparent--the reader will probably have discovered it some time since--that _we had been wooding all night at the same woodyard_!