anxious watchers. This time he had more friends. They swarmed
respectfully but enthusiastically after him out of Hoffmuller's place, a
dozen at least of our ne'er-do-wells. One of these, "Big Joe" Kestril,
a genial lout of a section-hand, ostentatiously carried the bag and had
an arm locked tenderly through one of the Colonel's. These two led the
procession. It halted at the corner, where the Colonel began to read his
_Argus_ notice to Bela Bedford, our druggist, who had been on the point
of entering his store. But the newspaper had suffered. It was damp from
being laid on bars, and parts of it were in tatters. The reader paused,
midway of the first paragraph, to piece a tear across the column, and
Bedford escaped by dashing into his store. The Colonel, suddenly
discovering that he could recite the thing from memory, did so with
considerable dramatic effect, seeming not to notice the defection of
Bedford. The crowd cheered madly when he had finished, and followed him
across the street to the bar of the City Hotel.

We could now observe better. The bar of the City Hotel is next the
office. A door is open between them with a wooden screen standing before
it. Inside the carouse raged, while we, who had thought to set Potts at
large, listened and wondered. The taller among us could overlook the
screen. We beheld Potts, one elbow resting on the bar, his other hand
with the cane in it waving forward his unreluctant train, while he
loudly inquired if there were drink to be had suitable for a gentleman
who was prepared to spend his money like a lord.

"None of that cooking whiskey, mind--nothing but the best bottled goods,
if you please!" was the next suggestion.

Again the crowd cheered. New faces were constantly appearing. The news
had gone out with an incredible rapidity. Honest men, inflamed by the