“‘Though he smokes like a coalpit himself, I knowed him to pick a quarrel with a young Georgian and kill him, because he happened to send a whiff of smoke in the direction whar he was settin’. Ever since that, whenever he comes into the room, you’ll see the fellers a-pluckin’ and a-snappin’ thar pipes out of thar mouths and crammin’ ’em into thar pockets or under thar coat-tails—anywhere to git ’em out of sight, like boys who are jest learnin’ the habit when they sight thar dad a-comin’ along.
“‘Take my advice and keep away from him, for he’s dead certain to pick a muss with strangers, as they ginnerally resent his insults. Plague on him!’ he contin’ed, ‘I wish he’d go away from the door, I want to git out; but it’s not good policy to go a-scrougin’ past him while he’s lookin’ so alfired glum.’ With that the old man went quietly over to a cheer in the corner and sat down—somethin’ the same as a monkey does when a larger one is dropped into the cage.
“I went to bed pooty early that night, as I was plaguey tired. In the mornin’ I learned thar had been a fight in the dark room betwixt Glass-eyed Bill and a Tuscaloosan. Bill, as usual, had killed his man. I began to wonder whether I’d git into some scrape or another before I’d leave, and as there was to be an auction sale of horses and mules that mornin’ right thar at the hotel, I concluded to make a purchase and git away as soon as possible.
“I bid two or three times on horses, but they run ’em up too high. At last they fetched out a big mule, and thinkin’ that would be jest the thing, I went for him pooty strong, and succeeded in gettin’ him. Glass-eyed Bill had bin settin’ on the door-step thar, and didn’t seem to be takin’ any part in the biddin’; but when I went to lead the mule off, he hollered:—
“‘Whar are ye a-gwine with that critter? Leave him standin’ thar, please; I kin attend to him myself, I reckon.’
“‘Wal,’ ses I, jest slow and easy, that way, for I wanted to keep down my rizin’ temper, knowin’ what I was when I got mad, ‘if I’m any judge of auctioneerin’, the mule is mine, and I cal’late to lead him away when and whar I please.’
“Just then the same old ministerial-lookin’ man come chuckin’ and pullin’ at my coat, and ses he, ‘I’m takin’ ruinous risks in speakin’ to ye now,’ he ses; ‘but I tell ye again, don’t cross him; let him have the mule, or you’ll expire quicker than a spark when it drops into a b’ilin’ pot. He doesn’t want the mule no more than a husband wants two mothers-in-law; but he’s jest pinin’ to git ye into a muss, and he doesn’t see any way of doin’ it without he disputes the mule with ye. Let him have it, or it’ll be wuss for ye; now mind what I’m tellin’ ye.’