person. Some of them had the reputation of being the hardest
citizens in three States, others were mild as turtle doves. They
were all pioneers. They had the independence, the unabashed eye,
the insubordination even, of the man who has drawn his intellectual
and moral nourishment at the breast of a wild nature. They were
afraid of nothing alive. From no one, were he chore-boy or
president, would they take a single word--with the exception always
of Tim Shearer and Thorpe.

The former they respected because in their picturesque guild he
was a master craftsman. The latter they adored and quoted and
fought for in distant saloons, because he represented to them their
own ideal, what they would be if freed from the heavy gyves of vice
and executive incapacity that weighed them down.

And they were loyal. It was a point of honor with them to stay
"until the last dog was hung." He who deserted in the hour of
need was not only a renegade, but a fool. For he thus earned a
magnificent licking if ever he ran up against a member of the
"Fighting Forty." A band of soldiers they were, ready to attempt
anything their commander ordered, devoted, enthusiastically admiring.
And, it must be confessed, they were also somewhat on the order of
a band of pirates. Marquette thought so each spring after the
drive, when, hat-tilted, they surged swearing and shouting down
to Denny Hogan's saloon. Denny had to buy new fixtures when they
went away; but it was worth it.

Proud! it was no name for it. Boast! the fame of Camp One spread
abroad over the land, and was believed in to about twenty per cent
of the anecdotes detailed of it--which was near enough the actual