neighborhood might be put upon their guard, was listened to with an
interest only less than the terror which it inspired. The landlady
rushed into the bar-room, followed by the red-faced kitchen wench, and
both interrupted the recital with cries of "Dear, dear!" and "Lord save
us!" The landlord, meanwhile, had prepared another tumbler of hot and
hot, and brought it forward, saying,--

"You need it, the Lord knows, and it shall cost you nothing."

"What I most need now," Gilbert said, "is pen, ink, and paper, to write
out my account. Then I suppose you can get me up a cold check,
[Footnote: A local term, in use at the time, signifying a "lunch."] for
I must start homewards soon."

"Not 'a cold check' after all that drenching and mishandling!" the
landlord exclaimed. "We'll have a hot supper in half an hour, and you
shall stay, and welcome. Wife, bring down one of Liddy's pens, the
schoolmaster made for her, and put a little vinegar into th' ink-bottle;
it's most dried up!"

In a few minutes the necessary materials for a letter, all of the rudest
kind, were supplied, and the landlord and drovers hovered around as
Gilbert began to write, assisting him with the most extraordinary
suggestions.

"I'd threaten," said a drover, "to write straight to General Washington,
unless they promise to catch the scoundrel in no time!"

"And don't forget the knife and pistol!" cried the landlord.