physically degenerate days. He said nothing,
but stood quietly in the middle of the
road. The eyes of the crowd on either
side of the road began to bulge, the lips
of all opened with wonder, and a simultaneous
burst of laughter rose around the
Hon. Samuel Budd. A dozen men sprang
to their feet and rushed up to him--looking
at those remarkable ears, as they
gravely wagged to and fro. That settled
things, and as we left, the Hon. Sam was
having things his own way, and on the
edge of the crowd Uncle Tommie Hendricks
was shaking his head:

``I tell ye, boys, he ain't no jackass
even if he can flop his ears.''

At the river we started upstream, and
some impulse made me turn in my saddle
and look back. All the time I had had an
eye open for the young mountaineer whose
interest in us seemed to be so keen. And
now I saw, standing at the head of a gray
horse, on the edge of the crowd, a tall
figure with his hands on his hips and looking
after us. I couldn't be sure, but it
looked like the Wild Dog.