it to you."

In giving the description, Joshua imitated the boastful accents of
his old comrade with such success that the assembled miners laughed
and applauded.

"That's he! You've got him!" they cried.

"Just hear that, old Rip-tail," said Mr. Bickford. "You see these
gentlemen here believe me and they don't believe you."

"There's a man in this here country that looks like me," said the
Pike man, with a lame excuse. "You've met him, likely."

"That won't go down, old Rip-tail. There ain't but one man can whip
his weight in wildcats and tell the all-firedest yarns out. That's
you, and there ain't no gettin' round it."

"This is a plot, gentlemen," said the man from Pike, glancing
uneasily at the faces around him, in which he read disbelief of his
statements. "My word is as good as his."

"Maybe it is," said Mr. Bickford. "I'll call another witness. Joe,
jest tell our friends here what you know about the gentleman from
Pike. If I'm lyin', say so, and I'll subside and never say another
word about it."

"All that my friend Bickford says is perfectly true," said Joe
modestly. "This man partook of our hospitality and then repaid us by
going off early one morning when we were still asleep, carrying off