NIGHT THE FIFTH.
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of dust which the fleet rider had swept up with hoofs and wheels.
"I didn't see." The sleeping man aroused himself, rubbed his eyes, and gazed along the road.
"Who was it, Matthew?" The Irish barkeeper now stood in the door.
"Willy Hammond," was answered by Matthew.
"Indeed! Is that his new three hundred dollar horse?"
"Yes."
"My! but he's a screamer!"
"Isn't he! Most as fast as his young master."
"Hardly," said one of the men, laughing. "I don't think anything in creation can beat Hammond. He goes it with a perfect rush."
"Doesn't he! Well; you may say what you please of him, he's as good-hearted a fellow as ever walked; and generous to a fault."
