ed. This was John Kelly, a
famous wandering minstrel of the camps, a strange, shy, poetic man, who
never lacked for dust nor for friends, and who apparently sought for
neither.

Under the softening influence of the music the crowd led a better life
for about ten minutes.

We entered the gambling rooms, of which there were two, and had a drink
of what McNally called "42 calibre whiskey" at the bar of each. In one
of them we found Johnny, rather flushed, bucking a faro bank. Yank
suggested that he join us, but he shook his head impatiently, and we
moved on. In a tremendous tent made by joining three or four ordinary
tents together, a very lively fiddle and concertina were in full blast.
We entered and were pounced upon by a boisterous group of laughing men,
seized by the shoulders, whirled about, and examined from behind.

"Two gentlemen and a lady!" roared out one of them. "Gentlemen on that
side; ladies on this. See-lect your pardners for the waltz!"

There was a great rushing to and fro in preparation. Men bowed to each
other with burlesque dancing school formality, offered arms, or accepted
them with bearlike coyness. We stood for a moment rather bewildered, not
knowing precisely what to do.

"You belong over that side," McNally instructed us. "I go over here; I'm
a 'lady.'"

"Why?" I asked.

"Ladies," explained McNally, "are those who have patches on the seats of
their pants."

As in most social gatherings, we saw that here too the fair sex were in
the majority.

Everybody danced very vigorously, with a tremendous amount of stamping.
It seemed a strenuous occupation after a week of hard work, and yet it
was great fun. Yank pirouetted and balanced and "sasshayed" and
tom-fooled in a manner wonderful to behold. We ended flushed and
uproarious; and all trooped to the bar, which, it seemed, was the real
reason for the existence of this dance hall.

The crowd was rough and good natured, full of high spirits, and inclined
to practical jokes of a pretty stiff character. Of course there was the
inevitable bully, swaggering fiercely and truculently back and forth,
his belt full of weapons. Nobody took him very seriously; but, on the
other hand, everybody seemed to take mighty good care not to run
definitely counter to him. In the course of his wanderings he came to
our end of the bar, and jostled McNally aside. McNally was at the moment
lighting his pipe, so that in his one hand he held a burning match and
in th