been chosen, the color-writers selected,
and Sir Peter had won the draw, choosing, of course, to weigh first,
the main being governed by rules devised by the garrison regiments,
partly Virginian, partly New York custom. Matches had been made in
camera, the first within the half-ounce, and allowing a stag four
ounces; round heels were to be used; all cutters, twists, and slashers
barred; the metal was steel, not silver.

And now the pitters had taken station, Horrock and a wall-eyed Bat-man
of the Train, and the birds had billed three times and had been fairly
delivered on the score--a black brass-back of ours against a black-red
of the Fifty-fourth. Scarcely a second did they eye one another when
crack! slap! they were at it, wing and gaffle. Suddenly the black-red
closed and held, struck like lightning five or six times, and it was
all over with Sir Peter's Flatbush brass-back, done for in a single
heat.

"Fast work," observed Sir Peter calmly, taking snuff, with a pleasant
nod to the enemy.

Then odds on the main flew like lightning, all taken by Sir Peter and
O'Neil and a few others of ours, and I biting my lip and fixing my eyes
on the roof. Had I not dreaded to hurt Sir Peter I should never, never
have come.

We again showed a brass-back and let him run in the pit before cutting
a feather, whereupon Sir Peter rashly laid ten to five and few takers,
too, for the Fifty-fourth showed a pyle of five-pounds-three--a
shuffler which few fancied. But Lord! the shuffler drummed our
brass-back to the tune of Sir Daniel O'Day, and though two ounces
light, took just eight minutes to crow for victory.

Again we showed, this time a duck-wing, and the Fifty-fourth a blue
hackle, heavily backed, who proved a wheeler, but it took twenty
minutes for him to lay the duck-wing upon the carpet; and we stood
three to the bad, but game, though the odds on the main were heavily
against us. Our fourth, a blinker, blundered to victory; our fifth hung
himself twice to the canvas and finally to the heels of a bewildered
spangle; our sixth, a stag, and a wheeling lunatic at that, gave to the
Fifty-fourth a bad quarter of an hour, and then, when at the last
moment our victory seemed certain, was sent flying to eternity in one
last feathered whirlwind, leaving us four to split and four to go, with
hopeless odds against us, and Sir Peter calmly booking side-bets on
anything that anybody offered.

When the call came we all rose, leaving th