I was thunder-struck, not at his proposition to pay for my shot, because
I knew that Billy meant it as a token of friendship, and he would have
been hurt if I had refused to let him do me this favor; but at the
unexpected announcement of my name as a competitor for beef, at least
one hundred miles from the place of my residence. I was prepared for a
challenge from Billy to some of his neighbors for a _private_ match upon
me; but not for this.

I therefore protested against his putting in for me, and urged every
reason to dissuade him from it that I could, without wounding his
feelings.

"Put it down!" said Billy, with the authority of an emperor, and with a
look that spoke volumes intelligible to every by-stander. "Reckon I
don't know what I'm about?" Then wheeling off, and muttering in an
under, self-confident tone, "Dang old Roper," continued he, "if he don't
knock that cross to the north corner of creation and back again before a
cat can lick her foot."

Had I been king of the cat tribe, they could not have regarded me with
more curious attention than did the whole company from this moment.
Every inch of me was examined with the nicest scrutiny; and some plainly
expressed by their looks that they never would have taken me for such a
bite. I saw no alternative but to throw myself upon a third chance shot;
for though, by the rules of the sport, I would have been allowed to
shoot by proxy, by all the rules of good breeding I was bound to shoot
in person. It would have been unpardonable to disappoint the
expectations which had been raised on me. Unfortunately, too, for me,
the match differed in one respect from those which I had been in the