"Once again," said I.
"And again," said he.
"That was about all I could stand, and I called him. With a leer of triumph he threw his hand on the table, face-up, displaying——"
"Stop him, stop him!" shouted Mr. Ridley, rising excitedly. "Don't let him take the money! If I'd a knowed you at the time, brother, it never would a happened! I'd a put you wise to that McNab. He ain't no more doctor than I am, and his name ain't McNab either! The scar-faced son of a gun! I've been up against him, and so has Bull; ain't you, Nathan?"
"Poker stories are barred, I believe," said the Senator coldly.
Mr. Ridley's face was a study.
"Well, I'll be damned!" he muttered, with his mouth full of potatoes. "Let's change the subject; there are lots of other things to talk about. I like war stories, myself. Senator," said he, turning to Senator Hammond, "the first time I ever saw you—and then it was some distance off—you were in the biggest kind of a hurry; I never saw a man so anxious to get from here, say, to over there."
"When was it? I do not recollect," said the old veteran pleasantly.
"Why, at Bull Run; don't you remember Bull Run?"
"Do I? Well, I should say I did. You fellows certainly had us going that day, and if you had been smart you would have pushed matters, captured Washington, and thus ended the war, or at least have been in a position to dictate your own terms. As to our retreat, I remember so well the disgusted tones of a staunch Union lady living in Washington, speaking to one of the boys on the night of our return.