"Oh—night before last, I—believe so."

"Ancient history, yes; but it's a standing invitation and they've called him names: poltroon, coward——"

"Well, really, Mr. So-and-so, while we can't justify the names, nor the invitation, we can't wonder at the givers."

"Why—I can. I think they're pretty tol'able wonderful. But so's he—to let 'em do it. Now, this ain't the question, either, but—why does he allow it? It ain't for lack of pluck, senator. I know a coward's earmarks and he ain't got 'em. It ain't for religion; less'n two hours out of Orleans he'd offered them twins, I'm told, to take 'em down to the freight deck and dish up the brace of 'em at one fell scoop. And no more is it because his people won't let him alone to do his own way. He's about the let-alone-dest fellow I ever see, for his age, if he is any particular age. No, sir, I've studied out what it's for."

"Hmm. But what's your question? What's it about?"

"Why, it's about this—and your friend the general. For I'll tell you, senator, why Mr. Hugh don't fight. It's for—can I tell you in confidence, strict, air-tight?"

"Certainly, strict, air-tight."

"Well, then, it's for love. He's in love with their sister. Now, that's something I don't wonder at. I am, too. So are a lot of us." He smiled at the cub, who frowned away. "Now, by natural fitness, he's got ground for hope. I ain't got a square inch. She ain't on my claim. Next week my face'll be to the setting sun. So what do I do but go to him—this was before her young brother died—which I almost loved the brother too—and s'I, 'Mr. Courteney, I've saw the sun go down and moon come up on this thing three times running, and every time and all between I've stood it, seeing you stand it. And I've studied it. And I see your fix. But most of us don't; so somebody's got to indorse you. Now, being a Kentuckian, not blue-grass but next door, I feel like doing it. You've got to play two hands and you can't play but one. Well, I'll play the one you can't. I'll fight them twins.'"

"Well, of all—and he accepted?"

"Now, you know he didn't. He said it would be absolutely impossible. But he said it the funniest way—! It made me see the size of him for the first time. And, senator, he's life-size. But I reckon you knowed that before I did. He took me by the button-hole, just as I'm holding you now, and talked to me as majestic as a father sending his boy off to school, and at the very same time and in the very same words as sweet as a girl sending her soldier to war."