's always
likely to know what's in the damned thing, you know, Mr. Vandemark; and
the truth being a seamless web, if a lawyer knows all about the law in
one book, he's prone to make a hell of a straight guess at what's in the
rest of 'em. Hence beware of the man of one book. I may safely lay claim
to being that man--in a figurative way; though there are half a dozen
volumes or so back there--the small pedestal on which I stand reaching
up toward a place on the Supreme Bench of the United States."

He had had a drink or two with Buckner Gowdy back there in the saloon,
and this had taken the brakes off his tongue--if there were any
provided in his temperament. So, aside from Buck Gowdy, I was the first
of his fellow-citizens of Monterey County to become acquainted with N.V.
Creede. He reminded me at first of Lawyer Jackway of Madison, the
guardian _ad litem_ who had sung the song that still recurred to me
occasionally--

"Sold again,
And got the tin,
And sucked another Dutchman in!"

But N.V. looked a little like Jackway from the fact only that he wore a
long frock coat, originally black, a white shirt, and a black cravat. He
was very tall, and very erect, even while carrying those books and that
bag. He was smooth-shaven, and was the first man I ever saw who shaved
every day, and could do the trick without a looking-glass. His eyes were
black and very piercing; and his voice rolled like thunder when he grew
earnest--which he was likely to do whenever he spoke. He would begin to
discuss my cows, the principles of farming, the sky, the birds of
passage, the flowers, the sucking in of the Dutchman--which I told him
all about before we had gone five miles--the mire-holes in the slews,
anything at all--and rising from a joke or a flighty notion which he
earnestly advocated, he would lower his voice and elevate his language
and utter a little gem of an oration. After which he would be still and
solemn for a while--to let it sink in I thought.

N.V. was at that time twenty-seven years old. He; came from Evansville,
Indiana, by the Ohio from Evansville to St. Louis, and thence up the
Mississippi. From Dubuque he had partly walked and partly ridden with
people who were willing to give him a lift.

"I am like unto the Apostle Peter," he said when he asked for the chance
to ride with me, "silver and gold have I none; but such as I have I give
unto thee."

"What do you mean?" I asked; for it is jus