"Bully!" "Good!" "You've got that!" cried several to the discomfited
seller of drinks. "It is your treat; we'll risk the stuff!" and the
party turned in to the bar to realize their expectations.

"There is one thing 'bout it," said Bi, "Bart hain't changed much,
anyway."

"And there's another thing 'bout it," said uncle Bill, "a chap that
carries such a sassy tongue should be sassy able. He'll answer some
chap, some day, that wun't stan' it."

"The man that picks him up'll find an ugly customer; he'd be licked
afore he begun. I tell you what, them Ridgeley boys is no fighters,
but the stuff's in 'em, and Bart's filled jest full. I'd as liv tackle
a young painter." This was Neaze's view.

"That's so," said Jo. "Do you remember the time he had here last fall,
with that braggin' hunter chap, Mc-Something, who came along with his
rifle, darin' all hands about here to shute with him? He had one of
them new peck-lock rifles, and nobody dared shute with him; and Bart
came along, and asked to look at the feller's gun, and said something
'bout it, and Mc-Somebody dared him to shute, and Bart sent over to
Haw's and got 'old Potleg,' that Steve Patterson shot himself with,
and loaded 'er up, and then the hunter feller wouldn't shute except
on a bet, and Bart hadn't but fifty cents, and they shot twenty rods
off-hand, and Bart beat him; and they doubled the bet, and Bart beat
agin, and they went on till Bart won more'n sixty dollars. Sometimes
the feller shot wild, and Bart told him he'd have to get a dog to hunt
where he hit, and he got mad, and Bart picked up his first half-dollar