"'Hain't you a little reckless, young feller?' Traylor says, as cool as a cucumber.
"I didn't know Traylor them days. If I had, I'd 'a' been prepared for what was comin'.
"Traylor stood up nigh the barn door, which Brimstead had closed after we backed the wagon out.
"The young feller stepped close to the New Salem man and raised his whip for a blow. Quick as lightnin' Traylor grabbed him and threw him ag'in' the barn door, keewhack! He hit so hard the boards bent and the whole barn roared and trembled. The other feller tried to get his pistol out of its holster, but Brimstead, who stood beside him, grabbed it, and I got his hoss by the bits and, we both held on. The young feller lay on the ground shakin' as if he had the ague. Ye never see a man so spylt in a second. Traylor picked him up. His right arm was broke and his face and shoulder bruised some. Ye'd a thought a steam engyne had blowed up while he was puttin' wood in it. He was kind o' limp and the mad had leaked out o' him.
"'I reckon I better find a doctor,' he says.
"'You get into my wagon and I'll take ye to a good one,' says Traylor.
"Just then Stephen Nuckles, the circuit minister, rode in with the big bloodhound that follers him around.
"The other slaver had got off his hoss in the scrimmage. Traylor started for him. The slaver began to back away and suddenly broke into a run. The big dog took after him with a kind of a lion roar. We all began yelling at the dog. We made more noise than you'd hear at the end of a hoss race. It scairt the young feller. He put on more steam and went up the ladder to the roof of the woodshed like a chased weasel. The dog stood barkin' as if he had treed a bear. Traylor grabbed the ladder and pulled it down.
"'You stay there till I get away an' you'll be safe,' said he.
"The man looked down and swore and shook his fist and threatened us with the law.