n his beard. Hale put young Dave on a horse and
the little shotgun cavalcade quietly moved away toward the county-seat.

The crestfallen Falins dispersed the other way after they had taken
a parting shot at the Hon. Samuel Budd, who, too, had a pistol in his
hand. Young Buck looked long at him--and then he laughed:

"You, too, Sam Budd," he said. "We folks'll rickollect this on election
day." The Hon. Sam deigned no answer.

And up in the store Devil Judd lighted his pipe and sat down to think
out the strange code of ethics that governed that police-guard. Hale had
told him to wait there, and it was almost noon before the boy with the
cap came to tell him that the Falins had all left town. The old man
looked at him kindly.

"Air you the little feller whut fit fer June?"

"Not yet," said Bob; "but it's coming."

"Well, you'll whoop him."

"I'll do my best."

"Whar is she?"

"She's waiting for you over at the boarding-house."

"Does she know about this trouble?"

"Not a thing; she thinks you've come to take her home." The old man made
no answer, and Bob led him back toward Hale's office. June was waiting
at the gate, and the boy, lifting his cap, passed on. June's eyes were
dark with anxiety.

"You come to take me home, dad?"

"I been thinkin' 'bout it," he said, with a doubtful shake of his head.

June took him upstairs to her room and pointed out the old water-wheel
through the window and her new clothes (she had put on her old homespun
again when she heard he was in town), and the old man shook his head.

"I'm afeerd 'bout all these fixin's--you won't never be satisfied agin
in Lonesome Cove."

"Why, dad," she said reprovingly. "Jack says I can go over whenever I
please, as soon as the weather gits warmer and the roads gits good."

"I don't know," said the old man, still shaking his head.

All through dinner she was worried. Devil Judd hardly ate anything, so
embarrassed was he by the presence of so many "furriners" and by the
white cloth and table-ware, and so fearful was he that he would be
guilty of some breach of manners. Resolutely he refused butter, and at
the third urging by Mrs. Crane he said firmly, but with a shrewd twinkle
in his eye:

"No, thank ye. I never eats butter in town. I've kept store myself," and
he was no little pleased with the laugh that went around the table. The
fact was he was generally pleased with June's environment and, after
dinner, he stopped teasing June.

"No