FENCED IN 65 
was handsome, square-jawed and strong. He 
was good-natured, but easily roused, and when 
angry was as fierce as fire. He had the reputa- 
tion of peing the hardest fighter in the country. 
His name was William Jackson, so he was called 
Bill. I nad met Jackson often, and we had 
taken kindly to each other. I admired his frank 
manner and sturdy physique, and he looked 
upon me as a good-natured tenderfoot, who 
might be companionable, and who would cer- 
tainly stir up things in the neighborhood. I 
went in search of him that afternoon to discuss 
the line fence, a full mile of which divided our 
lands. 
“J want to put a fence along our line which 
nothing can get over or under,” I said. “I am 
willing to bear the expense of the new fence if 
you will take away the old one and plough eight 
furrows, — four on your land and four on mine, 
—to be seeded to grass before the wires are 
stretched. We ought to get rid of the weeds 
and brush.” 
“That is a liberal proposition, Dr. Williams, 
and of course I accept,’ said Jackson; “but I 
ought to do more. I'll tell you what I'll do. 
You are planning to put a ring fence around 
your land, — three miles in all. Ill plough the 
whole business and fit it for the seed. [ll take 
one of my men, four horses, and a grub plough, 
and do it whenever you are ready.” 
This settled the fence matter between Jackson 
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