Since J.Quincy has taken to writing editorials on Terpy, Bill says there ain't no show for him.

He threatened to kill Terp, I heard." "Oh, I guess he has got more sense than that, drunk or sober.

He had better stick to men; shootin' of women ain't popular in most parts, an' it ain't likely to get fashionable in Gumbolt, I reckon." "He is huntin' for somebody," said the newcomer.
"I guess if he is going to get after all of Terpy's ardent admirers, he will have his hands pretty full," observed Mr.Plume--a sentiment which appeared to meet with general approval.
Just then the door opened a little roughly, and a man entered slowly whom Keith knew intuitively to be Mr.Bill Bluffy himself.

He was a young, brown-bearded man, about Keith's size, but more stockily built, his flannel shirt was laced up in front, and had a full, broad collar turned over a red necktie with long ends.

His slouch-hat was set on the back of his head.