is a-goin' to come off accordin' to Hoyle,
Ivanhoe, Four-Quarters-of-Beef, and all
them mediaeval fellows. Just watch me!''

I began to get newly interested, for that
knight's name I suddenly recalled. Little
Buck, the Wild Dog's brother, had
mentioned him, when we were over in the
Kentucky hills, as practising with the Wild
Dog--as being ``mighty good, but nowhar
'longside o' Mart.'' So the Hon. Sam
might have a good substitute, after all, and
being a devoted disciple of Sir Walter, I
knew his knight would rival, in splendor,
at least, any that rode with King Arthur
in days of old.

The Blight was very quiet at lunch, as
was the little sister, and my effort to be
jocose was a lamentable failure. So I gave
news.

``The Hon. Sam has a substitute.'' No
curiosity and no question.

``Who--did you say? Why, Dave
Branham, a friend of the Wild Dog.
Don't you remember Buck telling us about
him?'' No answer. ``Well, I do--and,
by the way, I saw Buck and one of the big