William Jones was, indeed, too ill to recognize his brother, and died in that condition. John felt the blow keenly, the more so because he could not have a last word with the kinsman he had seen so little of, and had come to regard with such strong affection.

In accordance with the provisions of the will, the bulk of the estate was now due to go to Johnnie Paul, provided the latter would accept Jones as a surname. Our young sailor, after some deliberation, decided to make the change, settle down, and become a Virginia planter. But he could not satisfy himself with dropping the name of Paul. This was a family heirloom which he felt he must preserve, especially now since he was the only male member of his immediate family possessing it, his good father having gone some months before. Therefore, he forthwith discarded his Christian name of John—whose commonplaceness he had never liked—and became known as Paul Jones. Under this half-assumed appellation he did the really big things of his career which brought him fame. Under it he shouldered responsibilities of which any true-hearted, loyal American citizen might well be proud, although he was only the son of a poor Scotch gardener, a young man without education, without a country he could really claim as his own.

Paul Jones—as we shall now have to call him—found that he had inherited "3000 acres of prime land, bordering for twelve furlongs on the right bank of the Rappahannock, running back southward three miles, 1000 acres of which are cleared and under plough or grass, 2000 acres of which are strong first-growth timber; a grist-mill with flour-cloth and fans turned by water power; mansion, overseer's house, negro quarters, stables, tobacco houses, threshing-floor, river-wharf, one sloop of twenty tons, thirty negroes of all ages (eighteen adults), twenty horses and colts, eighty neat cattle and calves, sundry sheep and swine; and all necessary means of tilling the soil."

With the property came also old Duncan Macbean. This canny, tough old Scotsman Willie Jones had saved from the tomahawks of the Indians at the time of Braddock's rout. He had brought him home, nursed him until well of his wounds, and then made him overseer of the plantation. In this capacity Duncan had amply proved his efficiency. He had become greatly attached to the place, and in his will the master had requested that he be continued as overseer as long as he was physically and mentally capable.

Paul Jones sent the Betsy back to London under the command of his first-mate, with word to her owners that, for the present at least, he was relinquishing the attractions of the sea. He then settled down in earnest to the new life that had opened up before him.

As in everything he undertook, he waded into the duties confronting him with an interest keen and thorough. He was not afraid to ask questions of those whose experience warranted them knowing more than he about his new task, no matter how humble or high their stations. In this way he learned the tricks of the planter with surprising rapidity. It was not long before he saw the advisability of rotating his tobacco crops with sowings of maize, that the fertility of his fields might not be exhausted, and a number of neighboring planters who had never thought of such a thing before, followed suit.

There was not a horse on the plantation, nor in the county which could unseat him. So much was he liked by his slaves that they anticipated his every wish, it seemed. In the early day, before the sun had become intolerable, he rode over his broad acres at a leisurely pace, noting the crops, the black workers, the pickaninnies at play,—everything. Apparently nothing tending toward a betterment of the condition of his help and the acres they tilled seemed to escape him. A gentle bit of censure here, a pat on a woolly head there, a trinket in a child's outstretched dusky hand, and he would turn his horse's head in another direction.

The surrounding forests contained game in profusion; and the low sandy marshes around Urbana abounded in great flocks of snipe and other water-fowl. With old Duncan Macbean the young master often shouldered the fine Lancaster rifle left by his brother, stuck a brace of pistols in his belt, and spent a day in the wilds. No better shot than the old Scotsman could be found in the whole country. Although an old Indian wound had left him lame, this in no wise interfered with his wonderful skill with either pistol or rifle. He could shoot from either hand or either shoulder, from almost any position, and put a ball through a wild turkey's head at a hundred yards.

Paul Jones could scarcely credit the evidence of his eyes when he first saw old Duncan shoot, for he had never seen such accuracy before. An intense desire came over him to master firearms with equal skill. He imparted this wish to his overseer, and the consequence was that in the course of the next two years the old veteran taught him to handle the pistol and rifle with a deadliness which became the talk of the countryside.

However, the ability to shoot was really more a matter of necessity than an accomplishment in those days. Scattering bands of the Rappahannock Indians often stole down stream to the holdings of the Scotch-Irish planters along the tidewater shores, and when opportunity offered, ran off portions of their live stock, or even sent a wicked arrow through an unwary white man. In her scrolled coach, creaking and swaying on its great hinges and leather straps, milady never took her airings down the rough sandy roads without a guarding retinue of armed slaves and whites. Nor did men themselves venture forth in the fastnesses without their fingers playing about hammer and trigger, ever ready to throw up the former at the slightest suspicious sight or sound, ready to pull the latter when they became convinced that such a procedure was warranted.

Young Paul Jones enjoyed his new life to the utmost. The constant peril from the redskins, the exciting brushes which he and old Duncan Macbean had with some of them on different occasions, the thrilling hunts in the forest, all went to satisfy his active, adventure-loving nature. On the other hand, he had plenty of spare time in which to gratify his ambitions for study, for becoming a man of power in his own section as well as in the affairs of the new nation. He continued to study from books, perfected his knowledge of the French and Spanish languages, and even traveled over the Colonies quite extensively. He entertained lavishly at home. His gallantry and courtesy made him very popular.

In his trips away from home he met many prominent statesmen of the time, and renewed friendships with others whom he had previously met. Among the latter was Joseph Hewes, with whom he was unusually intimate. Other noted men of his acquaintance were Thomas Jefferson, Philip Livingston, George Washington, Benjamin Franklin, the Lees, and Robert and Gouverneur Morris.

For some time the Colonists had been growing more and more restless under the burdensome taxes and conditions imposed upon them by England, the mother-country. The governors she appointed seemed to deal with the people unjustly, even cruelly at times. Protests did no good. If one official was removed a worse one was put in his place. So life in the new land, instead of flourishing, became a burden.

Bitterness began to creep into the voices of the Colonists when they talked of Great Britain. The man who thought conditions all right was frowned upon by the majority and called a "Tory." He was told either to keep his silence, or go back across the seas. The majority—the "Whigs"—did not want such men howling for the king on the virgin ground which they had come hundreds of miles to settle and keep free from the fetters of aristocratic rulers and their smothering taxes.

In 1774, Paul Jones, then twenty-seven years of age, returning from Edmonton, stopped over in Norfolk to visit some friends. Several British ships lay at anchor in the harbor. The Colonists forgot their grievances under the impulse of their natural hospitality. Wishing to show kindness to the king's sailors rather than loyalty to his empire, the Americans entertained the officers at an elaborate ball.

As customary at such functions wine was furnished. Instead of partaking of this sparingly, most of the young English officers drank freely, and became very insolent and abusive. Stepping up to one of the most talkative of them—Lieutenant Parker, by name—Paul Jones demanded:

"Did I not overhear you say, sir, that in the case of a revolt in this country England will easily suppress it?"

"Thash jus' what I said," replied Lieutenant Parker thickly. "Mean it too, m'lad. But I might add that if the courage of your men ish no finer'n the virtue of your women, you'll be licked before the fight's one day old."

In an instant the fist of the young planter, as hard as an oak knot beneath its laced cuff, swung out from his broad shoulder. The British officer went down like a log.

At once there was an aggressive movement on the part of his comrades; but the Americans, now thoroughly aroused to the defense of their ideals, flocked around Paul Jones in such numbers that the king's men fell back, picked up their helpless companion, and hurried aboard their ships.

Expecting that, after the custom of the day, Lieutenant Parker might challenge him to a duel, Paul Jones at once proceeded to make arrangements with a friend, Mr. Granville Hurst, to represent him in the event of any negotiations.

"Propose pistols at ten paces," said the young planter. "Advise the gentleman I will meet him at Craney Island, at such time as he may desire."

But this meeting never took place, for the very good reason that Lieutenant Parker heard about Paul Jones's unerring use of a pistol; his sloop departed at ebb tide for Charlestown, and, so far as he was concerned personally, the incident seemed closed.

The Colonists, however, did not forget it in a hurry. Like wildfire the news of the encounter spread. Colonial newspapers all gave considerable space to it. Suddenly Paul Jones found himself the most-talked-of man in Virginia. He was the hero of men, women, and children. Unofficially he had struck the first blow of the threatening conflict with England.