They had not tarred his face, except a spot on his forehead, where, he said, they had stuck a bunch of cotton as large as his two fists.

The road to Ocena, as our post-office was called, ran up the bluff now known to Atchison people as Sam Kingstown.

On the top of that ridge he had stopped, and pulled off his coat of tar and cotton, put on his clothes and come home.
A few evenings after that, we heard that a company of South Carolinians had camped near Mr.May's house.

Father said they had probably come after either himself or Caleb May.

So he went up to Mr.
May's, to see what to do about it.