Hotchkiss's cheek, and went on, half closing his eyes: "'I allow no man,
sir, to discuss my personal habits,' declared Doolittle, over his shirt
collar. 'Then I reckon shootin' must be one of those habits,' said
Pinkey coolly. Both men drove out on the Shell Road back of cemetery
next morning. Pinkey put bullet at twelve paces through Doolittle's
temple. Poor Doo never spoke again. Left three wives and seven children,
they say--two of 'em black."

"I got a note from you this morning," said Hotchkiss, with badly
concealed impatience. "I suppose in reference to our case. You have
taken judgment, I believe."

The Colonel, without replying, slowly filled a glass of whiskey and
water. For a moment he held it dreamily before him, as if still engaged
in gentle reminiscences called up by the act. Then tossing it off,
he wiped his lips with a large white handkerchief, and leaning back
comfortably in his chair, said, with a wave of his hand, "The interview
I requested, Mr. Hotchkiss, concerns a subject--which I may say
is--er--er--at present NOT of a public or business nature--although
LATER it might become--er--er--both. It is an affair of
some--er--delicacy."

The Colonel paused, and Mr. Hotchkiss regarded him with increased
impatience. The Colonel, however, continued, with unchanged
deliberation: "It concerns--er--er--a young lady--a beautiful,
high-souled creature, sir, who, apart from her personal
loveliness--er--er--I may say is of one of the first families of
Missouri, and--er--not remotely connected by marriage with one
of--er--er--my boyhood's dearest friends." The latter, I grieve to say,
was a pure invention of the Colonel's--an oratorical addition to the