Both were fearless, both
self-possessed and independent, and both types of a civilization that in
the seventeenth century would have been called heroic, but in the
nineteenth simply "reckless." "What have you got there? - I call," said
Tennessee see, quietly. "Two bowers and an ace," said the stranger, as
quietly, showing two revolvers and a bowie-knife. "That takes me,"
returned Tennessee; and, with this gambler's epigram, he threw away his
useless pistol, and rode back with his captor.
It was a warm night. The cool breeze which usually sprang up with the
going down of the sun behind the chaparral-crested mountain was that
evening withheld from Sandy Bar. The little ca?on was stifling with
heated resinous odors, and the decaying driftwood on the Bar sent forth
faint, sickening exhalations. The feverishness of day and its fierce
passions still filled the camp. Lights moved restlessly along the bank
of the river, striking no answering reflection from its tawny current.
Against the blackness of the pines the windows of the old loft above the
express-office stood out staringly bright; and through their curtainless
panes, the loungers below could see the forms of those who were even
then deciding the fate of Tennessee.
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