I rushed between them, holding out my cane; but a sharp cut across the knuckles, which I had received from one of the small men, together with his evident intention to follow it up, robbed me of all zest for pacific meditation; and, keeping my eye upon the one who had cut me, I drew a pistol (I could not otherwise defend myself), and fired.

The man fell dead in his tracks, without a groan.
His comrades, hearing me re-cock, took to their heels, and disappeared up a neighbouring alley.
The whole scene did not occupy the time you have spent in reading this relation of it.

One minute I was plodding quietly homeward; the next, I stood in the middle of the street; beside me a stranger of gigantic proportions; at my feet a black mass of dead humanity, half doubled up in the mud as it had fallen; on the banquette, the slight, shivering form of a boy; while above and around were silence and darkness.
I was beginning to fancy the whole thing a dream, when the voice of the man at my side dispelled this illusion.
"Mister," said he, placing his arms akimbo, and facing me, "if ye'll tell me yur name, I ain't a-gwine to forgit it.

No, Bob Linkin ain't that sorter." "What! Bob Lincoln?
Bob Lincoln of the Peaks ?" In the voice I had recognised a celebrated mountain trapper, and an old acquaintance, whom I had not met for several years.
"Why, Lord save us from Injuns! it ain't you, Cap'n Haller?
May I be dog-goned if it ain't! Whooray!--whoop! I knowed it warn't no store-keeper fired that shot.

Haroo! whar are yur, Jack ?" "Here I am," answered the boy, from the pavement.
"Kum hyur, then.