hey were stilled perforce. "I will get him
for you," he repeated slowly, "or North Carolina will pay for the burial
of James Cozby."

There was an instant when they might have swung either way.

"How will ye do it?" came in a thin, piping voice from somewhere near the
stump. It may have been this that turned their minds. Others took up
the question, "How will ye do it, Major Cozby?"

"I don't know," cried the Major, "I don't know. And if I did know, I
wouldn't tell you. But I will get Nollichucky Jack if I have to burn
Morganton and rake the General out of the cinders!"

Five hundred hands flew up, five hundred voices cried, "I'm with ye,
Major Cozby!" But the Major only shook his head and smiled. What he
said was lost in the roar. Fighting my way forward, I saw him get down
from the stump, put his hand kindly on Nick's shoulder, and lead him into
the court-house. They were followed by a score of others, and the door
was shut behind them.

It was then I bethought myself of the letter to Mr. Wright, and I sought
for some one who would listen to my questions as to his whereabouts. At
length the man himself was pointed out to me, haranguing an excited crowd
of partisans in front of his own gate. Some twenty minutes must have
passed before I could get any word with him. He was a vigorous little
man, with black eyes like buttons, he wore brown homespun and white
stockings, and his hair was clubbed. When he had yielded the ground to
another orator, I handed him the letter. He drew me aside, read it on
the spot, and became all hospitality at once. The town was full, and
though he had several friends staying in his house I should join them.
Was my horse fed? Dinner had been forgotten that day, but would I enter
and partake? In short, I found myself suddenly provided for, and I lost
no time in getting my weary mount into Mr. Wright's little stable. And
then I sat down, with several other gentlemen, at Mr. Wright's board,
where there was much guessing as to Major Cozby's plan.

"No other man west of the mountains could have calmed that crowd after
that young daredevil Temple had stirred them up," declared Mr. Wright.

I ventured to say that I had business with Mr. Temple.

"Faith, then, I will invite him here," said my host. "But I warn you,
Mr. Ritchie, that he is a trigger set on the hair. If he does not fancy
you, he may quarrel with you and shoot you. And he is in no temper to be
trifled with to-day."

"I am not an