"We can get home if we have occasion to go, but you cannot, because, you live in a foreign country that's at war with us, you know."
While talking together, the doctor came up to the group of which I was the center, and remarked in a half-quizzical way, his face wearing a smiling expression:
"Say, Blank, Jim Haws says he met you one night at the theatre, and you wouldn't speak to him."
Right here I made another mistake that day, by denying that I had refused to speak to any one.
"That's what I told him, but he swears that he and Bill Williams both saw you there."
I realized that I had again put my foot into it; but, I suppose, on the principle that a lie well stuck to will answer for the truth, I deliberately thrust myself deeper into the mire by insisting that I had not met any one at the theatre. This was satisfactory to the friends near me, who had become somewhat interested in the talk, and it all might have passed off without any further questioning or investigation if my former enemy, Davy Crockett, Jr., had not meddled with the affair. He had, as it subsequently appeared, been volunteering his sympathies and comments unfavorable to me to the two comrades whose story of the "insult" at the theatre had reached him. Of course, the motive that prompted young Crockett was simply a desire to get even with me, for presuming to promptly accept a challenge from him while in Texas to fight a duel.
As I have said, the one thing that I most desired just at that time was to get away from that crowd. If this intention had not been so fixed in my mind, or if I had at all thought of being delayed, perhaps I should have conducted myself with more discretion, and not have committed the blunder of denying a matter that would so soon and so surely react on me and endanger my life.
When we were about ready to leave the camp, and as I was flattering myself that once out of sight I should be out of mind, and have another opportunity to get away, I was confronted by the identical Jim Haws, who had brought to our part of the camp "a few friends," among whom was Billy Williams. In a voice trembling with suppressed rage, he said, looking savagely at me:
"Didn't you see me at the theater the other night?"
I have before stated, not with egotism, but as an explanation for some of my statements, that it is or has been one of my good points to always have been able to meet a sudden danger coolly, while at the same time I confess that I would tremble with apprehension and fear if I were anticipating or expecting the same danger.