r darted behind him and leaped
headlong into the tops of thick rhododendron. Before Hale knew what had
happened the lad's pistol flashed.

"Stop, boy!" he cried, horrified. "Don't shoot!" and he had to catch
the lad to keep him from leaping after the runaway. The shot had missed;
they heard the runaway splash into the river and go stumbling across it
and then there was silence. Young Dave laughed:

"Uncle Judd'll be over hyeh to-morrow to see about this." Hale said
nothing and they went on. At the door of the calaboose Dave balked and
had to be pushed in by main force. They left him weeping and cursing
with rage.

"Go to bed, Bob," said Hale.

"Yes, sir," said Bob; "just as soon as I get my lessons."

Hale did not go to the boarding-house that night--he feared to face
June. Instead he went to the hotel to scraps of a late supper and then
to bed. He had hardly touched the pillow, it seemed, when somebody
shook him by the shoulder. It was Macfarlan, and daylight was streaming
through the window.

"A gang of those Falins are here," Macfarlan said, "and they're after
young Dave Tolliver--about a dozen of 'em. Young Buck is with them, and
the sheriff. They say he shot a man over the mountains yesterday."

Hale sprang for his clothes--here was a quandary.

"If we turn him over to them--they'll kill him." Macfarlan nodded.

"Of course, and if we leave him in that weak old calaboose, they'll get
more help and take him out to-night."

"Then we'll take him to the county jail."

"They'll take him away from us."

"No, they won't. You go out and get as many shotguns as you can find and
load them with buckshot."

Macfarlan nodded approvingly and disappeared. Hale plunged his face in
a basin of cold water, soaked his hair and, as he was mopping his face
with a towel, there was a ponderous tread on the porch, the door opened
without the formality of a knock, and Devil Judd Tolliver, with his hat
on and belted with two huge pistols, stepped stooping within. His eyes,
red with anger and loss of sleep, were glaring, and his heavy moustache
and beard showed the twitching of his mouth.

"Whar's Dave?" he said shortly.

"In the calaboose."

"Did you put him in?"

"Yes," said Hale calmly.

"Well, by God," the old man said with repressed fury, "you can't git him
out too soon if you want to save trouble."

"Look here, Judd," said Hale seriously. "You are one of the last men
in the world I want to have trouble with for m