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We cried out, all of us, his men, the widow, and myself, all save Sevier, who stood quietly, smiling. Suddenly, while we waited for murder, a tall figure shot out of the door past the widow, the pistol flew out of Tipton's hand, and Tipton swung about with something like a bellow, to face Mr. Nicholas Temple. Well I knew him!

He raised his eyes to hers. "Good-by, Mr. Temple," she said, there was a tremor in her voice, "and may you save our Jack!" He snatched the bridle from the boy, and with one leap he was on the rearing, wheeling horse. "Come on," he cried to me, and, waving his hat at the lady on the porch, he started off with a gallop up the trail in the opposite direction from that which Tipton's men had taken.

Nolichucky Jack, whose demeanor was never so decorous as when the ill-considered actions of those in authority had made him appear to have circumvented the law, considerately waited outside until the House had lifted the ban which it did perforce and by a large majority, despite Tipton's opposition and then took his seat on the senatorial bench beside his enemy.

Tipton's friend, Spencer, who had been North Carolina's judge of the Superior Court in the West and who was sharing that honor now with Campbell, issued the warrant and sent Tipton to make the arrest. Sevier was at the Widow Brown's inn with some of his men when Tipton at last came up with him. It was early morning.

"You warned him, damn you!" he shouted, and turning again leaped to the porch and tried to squeeze past the widow into the house. "How dare you, sir?" she shrieked, giving him a vigorous push backwards. The four of us, his three men and myself, laughed outright. Tipton's rage leaped its bounds.

Sevier hesitated to push matters to extremity by charging home. For a couple of days there was some skirmishing and two or three men were killed or wounded. Then the county-lieutenant of Sullivan, with a hundred and eighty militia, came to Tipton's rescue. MSS., No. 150, vol. iii. Two of Sevier's sons were taken prisoners, and Tipton was with difficulty dissuaded from hanging them.

But there is no wolf so strong but he may find another to make wolves' meat of him; and Tom Sayers, who had fought his first fight so tradition tells on the canal bank within a mile of the Slasher's public-house, sent in his challenge, and poor old Tipton's colours were lowered for once and for ever.