of Offut's whisky with them."

The boys arrived in a cloud of dust and a chorus of Indian whoops and
dismounted and hobbled their horses. They came toward the workers, led
by burly Jack Armstrong, a stalwart, hard-faced blacksmith of about
twenty-two with broad, heavy shoulders, whose name has gone into history.
They had been drinking some but no one of them was in the least degree
off his balance. They scuffled around the jug for a moment in perfect
good nature and then Abe and Mrs. Waddell provided them with the best
remnants of the dinner. They were rather noisy. Soon they went up on the
roof to help with the rafters and the clapboarding. They worked well a
few minutes and suddenly they came scrambling down for another pull
at the jug. They were out for a spree and Abe knew it and knew further
that they had reached the limit of discretion.

"Boys, there are ladies here and we've got to be careful," he said. "Did
I ever tell you what Uncle Jerry Holman said of his bull calf? He said
the calf was such a _suckcess_ that he didn't leave any milk for the
family and that while the calf was growin' fat the children was growin'
poor. In my opinion you're about fat enough for the present. Le's stick
to the job till four o'clock. Then we'll knock off for refreshments."

The young revelers gathered in a group and began to whisper together.
Samson writes that it became evident then they were going to make trouble
and says:

* * * * *

"We had left the children at Rutledge's in the care of Ann. I went to
Sarah and told her she had better go on and see if they were all right.