Sam himself might have been more courteous had not his mental perturbation been so great.

As it was, the "grand march" was over, and Battersleigh was again walking along the lines in company with his friend Franklin, before either could have been said to have noticed fully these strangers, whom no one seemed to know, and who sat quite apart and unengaged.

Battersleigh, master of ceremonies by natural right, and comfortable gentleman at heart, spied out these three, and needed but a glance to satisfy himself of their identity.
Folk were few in that country, and Sam had often been very explicit in his descriptions.
"Sir," said Battersleigh, approaching and bowing as he addressed the stranger, "I shall make bold to introjuce meself--Battersleigh of Ellisville, sir, at your service.

If I am not mistaken, you will be from below, toward the next town.

I bid ye a very good welcome, and we shall all hope to see ye often, sir.