out, and was succeeded by two squalid Indians, with some skins to trade
for corn juice and tobacco; they cleared out, and about two or three P.
M., some _movers_ came along; we had a little dicker with them, and that
closed up the business accounts of the day.

Having discussed all the availables, from the contents of the post
office--seven newspapers and four letters per quarter!--to the crackers
and cheese, and business being essentially stagnated, we ups and lies
down upon the top of the counter, to take a nap. Captain V----'s store
was a log building, about 15 by 30, and stood near the edge of the
woods, and at least half a mile from any habitation, except the
schoolhouse and blacksmith's shop, two small huts, and at that time--"in
coventry." Captain V---- was a bachelor; he boarded--that is, he took
his meals at the nearest house--half a mile back from the wood, and
slept in his store. We soon fell into the soft soothing arms of
Morpheus, and--slept. It was fine mild weather--September, and, of
course, the door was wide open. How long we slept we were not at all
conscious, but were aroused by a heavy hand that gave us a hearty shake
by the shoulder, and in a rather sepulchral voice says--

"How are you?"

Gods! we were up quick, for our sleep had been visited by dreams of
southwest tragedies, hanging scrapes, and other nightmare affairs, and
as we opened our eyes and caught a glimpse of the double-fisted,
cadaverous fellow standing over us, a strong inclination to go off into
a cold sweat seized us! Lo! it was after sunset! Almost dark in the
store, the stars had already began to twinkle in the sky.

Captain V---- did a considerable trade at his store, and at times had
considerable sums of money laying around. Upon leaving in the morning,
he notified us, in case we should require _change_, to look into the
desk, where he kept a shot bag of silver coin, and--his pistols.

"How are you?" the words and manner and looks of the man gave us a cold
chill.

"How do you do?" we managed to respond, at the same time sliding down
behind the counter. The stranger had a heavy walking stick in his hand,
and a knapsack looking bundle swung to his shoulder. He looked like the
rough remnants of an ill-spent life; had evidently travelled somewhere
where barbers, washer-women and such like civilian delicacies, were more
matters of tradition than fact.

"Been asleep, eh?" he carelessly continued.

"It appears so," said we, fee