His genius kept him fully aware of the value of this preeminence, and it lay in his wisdom and pleasure to fan the flame of his own repute. In this it amused him to seek the picturesque—the unexpected. With an imagination fed by primeval humor and checked by no outward circumstances of law, he achieved a ready facility. Once, for example, while trundling through his town of Shippensburg on the rear platform of a freight train, he chanced to spy a Borough Constable crossing a bridge near the track.
"Happy thought! Let's touch the good soul up. He's getting stodgy."
Israel drew a revolver and fired, neatly nicking the Constable's hat. Then with a mountaineer's hoot, he gayly proclaimed his identity.
Again, and many times, he would send into this or that town or settlement a message addressed to the Constable or Chief of Police:—
"I am coming down this afternoon. Get away out of town. Don't let me find you there."
Obediently they went away. And Israel, strolling the streets that afternoon just as he had promised to do, would enter shop after shop, look over the stock at his leisure, and, with perfect good-humor, pick out whatever pleased him, regardless of cost.
"I think I'll take this here article," he would say to the trembling store-keeper, affably pocketing his choice.
"Help yourself, Mr. Drake! Help yourself, sir! Glad we are able to please you to-day."
Which was indeed the truth. And many of them there were who would have hastened to curry favor with their persecutor by whispering in his ear a word of warning had they known of any impending attempt against him by the agents of peace.
Such was their estimate of the relative strength of Israel Drake and of the law forces of the Sovereign State of Pennsylvania.