Taking a double-barreled pistol which I had recently bought, I went to the head of the stairs, cocked the weapon, and waited for the ruffian to come up, determined, that the moment he set foot on the steps I would kill him.

I was relieved, however, from the stern necessity, as he did not make his appearance.
The brute was considerably intoxicated when he came to the house, and the longer he sat still the more his brain became muddled with liquor, and he actually forgot what he had come there for.

After he had eaten his dinner, he mounted his horse and rode off, and it was a fortunate thing for him that he did.
Father soon recovered and returned to Grasshopper Falls, while I resumed my cattle herding..