“Beriah Sellers was the next witness called.  The Colonel made his way to the stand with majestic, yet bland deliberation.  Having taken the oath and kissed the Bible with a smack intended to show his great respect for that book, he bowed to his Honor with dignity, to the jury with familiarity, and then turned to the lawyers and stood in an attitude of superior attention.

“Mr. Sellers, I believe?” began Mr. Braham.

“Beriah Sellers, Missouri,” was the courteous acknowledgment that the lawyer was correct.

“Mr. Sellers; you know the parties here, you are a friend of the family?”

“Know them all, from infancy, sir.  It was me, sir, that induced Silas Hawkins, Judge Hawkins, to come to Missouri, and make his fortune.  It was by my advice and in company with me, sir, that he went into the operation of—­”

“Yes, yes.  Mr. Sellers, did you know a Major Lackland?”

“Knew him, well, sir, knew him and honored him, sir.  He was one of the most remarkable men of our country, sir.  A member of congress.  He was often at my mansion sir, for weeks.  He used to say to me, ’Col.  Sellers, if you would go into politics, if I had you for a colleague, we should show Calhoun and Webster that the brain of the country didn’t lie east of the Alleganies.  But I said—­”

“Yes, yes.  I believe Major Lackland is not living, Colonel?”

There was an almost imperceptible sense of pleasure betrayed in the Colonel’s face at this prompt acknowledgment of his title.

“Bless you, no.  Died years ago, a miserable death, sir, a ruined man, a poor sot.  He was suspected of selling his vote in Congress, and probably he did; the disgrace killed’ him, he was an outcast, sir, loathed by himself and by his constituents.  And I think; sir”——­

The Judge.  “You will confine yourself, Col.  Sellers to the questions of the counsel.”

“Of course, your honor.  This,” continued the Colonel in confidential explanation, “was twenty years ago.  I shouldn’t have thought of referring to such a trifling circumstance now.  If I remember rightly, sir”—­

A bundle of letters was here handed to the witness.

“Do you recognize, that hand-writing?”

“As if it was my own, sir.  It’s Major Lackland’s.  I was knowing to these letters when Judge Hawkins received them. [The Colonel’s memory was a little at fault here.  Mr. Hawkins had never gone into detail’s with him on this subject.] He used to show them to me, and say, ’Col, Sellers you’ve a mind to untangle this sort of thing.’  Lord, how everything comes back to me.  Laura was a little thing then.  ’The Judge and I were just laying our plans to buy the Pilot Knob, and—­”

“Colonel, one moment.  Your Honor, we put these letters in evidence.”