He seemed about the oldest man I had ever seen--an amazing and melancholy contrast with the showy young captain I had seen preparing his warriors for carnage so many, many years before.

Hickman is dead--it is the old story.

As Susy said, "What is it all for ?" Reuel Gridley went away to the wars and we heard of him no more for fifteen or sixteen years.

Then one day in Carson City while I was having a difficulty with an editor on the sidewalk--an editor better built for war than I was--I heard a voice say, "Give him the best you've got, Sam, I'm at your back." It was Reuel Gridley.

He said he had not recognized me by my face but by my drawling style of speech.
He went down to the Reese River mines about that time and presently he lost an election bet in his mining camp, and by the terms of it he was obliged to buy a fifty-pound sack of self-raising flour and carry it through the town, preceded by music, and deliver it to the winner of the bet.