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toward the billiard table, while the men at play quietly fell back and left the red and white balls dotting the green cloth.

Those around me sidled away right and left, and I stood alone. Hirst advanced to the table, darting his restless, keen eyes at me every second, and, standing against and leaning over the table, all the time watching me like a cat, he punched the billiard balls savagely with the muzzle of his pistol. He then drew back from the table, tossed his head, whistled something, and moved in my direction.

My hand was on my pistol. The hammer was raised and my finger touched the trigger; but Hirst, without advancing further or saying a word, quietly turned out at a side door, and I saw no more of him that night.

I had done nothing, said nothing, but answering to the rough code and etiquette of the camp, the victory was mine ; for when a man enters a room where his antagonist is, it is his place to make the first demonstration. This Hirst did not openly do ; still no doubt he had done enough to satisfy his ambi tion for that evening, and it was evident the end was not yet. It was also evident, brave and reckless as he was, that he sought rather to maintain his reputa tion for recklessness than to meet me as he had met so many others.

I went down the creek that night, after this event, with my white friends, the gentlemen who kept the library, and retired.