hat over his face to protect him from buzzing and biting flies.

Though all but the sleeping man eyed me inquisitively, as I took
my place among them, not one changed his position. The rolling of
eye-balls cost but little exertion; and with that effort they were
contented.

"Hallo! who's that?" one of these loungers suddenly exclaimed, as
a man went swiftly by in a light sulky; and he started up, and
gazed down the road, seeking to penetrate the cloud of dust which
the fleet rider had swept up with hoofs and wheels.

"I didn't see." The sleeping man aroused himself, rubbed his eyes,
and gazed along the road.

"Who was it, Matthew?" The Irish bar-keeper now stood in the door.

"Willy Hammond," was answered by Matthew.

"Indeed! Is that his new three hundred dollar horse?"

"Yes."

"My! but he's a screamer!"

"Isn't he! Most as fast as his young master."

"Hardly," said one of the men, laughing. "I don't think anything
in creation can beat Hammond. He goes it with a perfect rush."