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"Madam,"--my cap went higher, my head lower--"I never bet."

"Such as which?" asked the Yankee, with a twinkle. "There were two kinds."

The discussion warmed and I began to catch words and meanings. Oftenest they were old Lucius Oliver's, whose bad temper made him incautious. While his son and the other two jayhawkers obstinately pressed their scheme he kept saying, sourly, "That's--not--our--wa-ay!"

"Of course no one has seen this despatch, eh?--Oh!"--a smile--"yes? who?"

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