There was a murmur of amusement at this. Everybody at the "Bella Union" knew that something had been in the air touching chirographic exploits of Mr. Copperas a few years back at New Orleans, and before he kept the faro bank at Boone's Bar.
"For my part," put in Jim Blair, who liked to hear injustice done to no man, "I s'pose there's reasons why a chap might want to live alone, and yet mightn't a knifed anybody nor robbed 'em either."
"That's so, Jim," affirmed Judge Carboy oracularly. "No doubt on't. But when it's so we usually hear what them reasons is. Now, who knows air a word on 'em in the case afore us? Anyhow, I hope he's good—good as gold—only we've had our sheer of troubles in the county, and it's well to look sharp."
"When I was a little chap," proceeded Jim Blair with retrospective deliberation, "I lived in a village on the further side o' the Ohio. Most folks did their business on t'other bank, and went over generally by the eight o'clock ferry in the mornin.' Now, there was two or three that didn't; men whose work lay nigher home, or who went later. But the crowd went over reg'lar at eight. Arter awhile they got awful sot agin them who didn't go over at the same time. There weren't no hell's delights you could think of them fellers didn't lay to the men who didn't travel by the eight boat; and at last, damn me if they didn't want to lynch 'em!"
"Lynch 'em for not goin' in the eight boat!" cried the Judge, whose respect for the majesty of the law always asserted itself, as was meet, on hearing any tale of its infringement.
Jim Blair nodded. "Not so much, I reckon, for not goin' in the eight boat as for not doin' what other folks did. However, them who ever try to trouble Ches Harding'll have a rough time, I guess."
"You think he's sech a game fighter?" inquired Jack Storm with lively interest.
"That may be too. But what I meant was, there's them on the Flat who believe in Ches for all his lonesome ways, and won't see him put upon. For my part I reckon he's more sinned against than sinnin'."
"I guess you're half right, Jim," admitted Judge Carboy with diplomatic concession; "more'n half right. But mark my words"—and the Judge's voice rose to the orotund swell which denoted his purpose to be more than commonly impressive—"thar'll be the devil's own time on the Flat some day, and that air duck'll be king pin and starter of it. I never know'd no such silent, sulky cuss as that moonin' round but that he kicked up pettikiler h— in the long run."
It will be seen from this that there were differences of opinion respecting Chester Harding at Bullion Flat, and it cannot be denied that there was some reason for it.