"It seems to me, my friend," said Kellogg, who, it will be
remembered, had been a schoolmaster, "that you are a modern Hercules."

"Who's he?" demanded the Pike man suspiciously, for he had never
heard of the gentleman referred to.

"He was a great hero of antiquity," exclaimed Kellogg, "who did many
wonderful feats."

"That's all right, then," said the Pike man. "If you're friendly,
then I'm friendly. But if any man insults me he'll find he's tackled
the wrong man. I can whip my weight in wildcats------"

Here he was subjected to an interruption.

Mr. Bickford could no longer suppress his indignation when at a
little distance he saw his mustang, which this treacherous braggart
had robbed him of, quietly feeding.

"Look here, old Rip-tail, or whatever you call yourself, I've got an
account to settle with you."

The Pike man started as he heard Mr. Bickford's voice, which, being
of a peculiar nasal character, he instantly recognized. He felt that
the meeting was an awkward one, and he would willingly have avoided
it. He decided to bluff Joshua off if possible, and, as the best way
of doing it, to continue his game of brag.

"Who dares to speak to me thus?" he demanded with a heavy frown,
looking in the opposite direction. "Who insults the Rip-tail Roarer?"