It was at this time that Col.
Starbottle discovered a similarity in Mrs. Tretherick's verse to the
genius of Sappho, and pointed it out to the citizens of Fiddletown in
a two-columned criticism, signed "A. S.," also published in "The
Avalanche," and supported by extensive quotation. As "The Avalanche" did
not possess a font of Greek type, the editor was obliged to reproduce
the Leucadian numbers in the ordinary Roman letter, to the intense
disgust of Col. Starbottle, and the vast delight of Fiddletown, who saw
fit to accept the text as an excellent imitation of Choctaw,--a language
with which the colonel, as a whilom resident of the Indian Territories,
was supposed to be familiar. Indeed, the next week's "Intelligencer"
contained some vile doggerel, supposed to be an answer to Mrs.
Tretherick's poem, ostensibly written by the wife of a Digger Indian
chief, accompanied by a glowing eulogium, signed "A. S. S."

The result of this jocularity was briefly given in a later copy of
"The Avalanche." "An unfortunate rencounter took place on Monday last,
between the Hon. Jackson Flash of 'The Dutch Flat Intelligencer' and the
well-known Col. Starbottle of this place, in front of the Eureka saloon.
Two shots were fired by the parties without injury to either, although
it is said that a passing Chinaman received fifteen buckshot in the
calves of his legs from the colonel's double-barrelled shot-gun, which
were not intended for him. John will learn to keep out of the way of
Melican man's fire-arms hereafter. The cause of the affray is not known,
although it is hinted that there is a lady in the case. The rumor that
points to a well-known and beautiful poetess whose lucubrations have
often graced our columns seems to gain credence from those that are
posted."

Meanwhile the passiveness displayed by Tretherick under these trying
circumstances was fully appreciated in the gulches. "The old man's
head is level," said one long-booted philosopher. "Ef the colonel
kills Flash, Mrs. Tretherick is avenged: if Flash drops the colonel,
Tretherick is all right. Either way, he's got a sure thing." During
this delicate condition of affairs, Mrs. Tretherick one day left her
husband's home, and took refuge at the Fiddletown Hotel, with only the
clothes she had on her back. Here she staid for several weeks, during
which period it is only justice to say that she bore herself with the
strictest propriety.

It was a clear morning in early spring tha