“I ain't sure yit whut it was--it mout a-been the first sight of the foeman he'd fit ag'inst so long that riled him or it mout a-been merely a sort of sneakin' desire to make out like he purposed to hold off to the very last and then be won over by sweet blandishments--but jest ez we reached the river, a big feller hailin' frum down in Bland County rid up in front of Billy Priest and he says he wants to ast him a question. “'Fire away,' says Billy. “'Bill Priest,' says the Bland County feller, 'I take it to be your intention to go back into the once't free but now conquered state of Texas?' “'Well, pardner,' says Billy in that whiny way of his'n, 'you certainly are a slow one when it comes to pickin' up current gossip ez it flits to and fro about the neighbourhood. Why do you s'pose we've all been ridin' hell-fur-leather in this direction endurin' of the past few days onlessen it was with that identical notion in mind?' “'Never mind that now,' says the other feller. 'Circumstances alter cases. Don't you see that there camp over yonder is a camp of Yankee soldiers?' “'Ef my suspicions are correct that's jest whut it is,' says Billy very politely. 'Whut of it?' “'Well,' says the other feller, 'did it ever occur to you that ef we cross here them Yankees will call on us to lay down the arms which we've toted so long? Did it ever occur to you that mebbe they'd even expect us to take their dam' oath of allegiance?' “'Yes,' says Billy Priest, 'sence you bring up the subject, it had occurred to me that they mout do jest that. And likewise it has also occurred to me that when them formalities are concluded they mout extend the hospitalities of the occasion by invitin' us to set down with them to a meal of real human vittles. Why,' he says, 'I ain't tasted a cup of genuwyne coffee in so long that----!' “The other feller breaks in on him before Billy can git done with whut he's sayin'. “'And you,' he says, sort of sneerful and insinuatin', 'you, here only some three or four months back was a ring-leader and a head-devil in formin' this here expedition. You was goin' round makin' your brags that you'd be the last one to surrender--you! And we've been callin' you Fightin' Billy! Fightin' Billy? Hell's fire!' “Billy rammed his heels in his hoss's flanks and shoved over, only reinin' up when he was touchin' laigs with the Bland County feller. A shiny little blue light come into his eyes and the veins in his neck all swelled out.