y man's eye.

And the Guard went to its work in earnest. Every man now had his
Winchester, his revolver, his billy and his whistle. Drilling and
target-shooting became a daily practice. Bob, who had been a year in a
military school, was drill-master for the recruits, and very gravely
he performed his duties and put them through the skirmishers'
drill--advancing in rushes, throwing themselves in the new grass, and
very gravely he commended one enthusiast--none other than the Hon.
Samuel Budd--who, rather than lose his position in line, threw himself
into a pool of water: all to the surprise, scorn and anger of the
mountain onlookers, who dwelled about the town. Many were the comments
the members of the Guard heard from them, even while they were at drill.

"I'd like to see one o' them fellers hit me with one of them locust
posts."

"Huh! I could take two good men an' run the whole batch out o' the
county."

"Look at them dudes and furriners. They come into our country and air
tryin' to larn us how to run it."

"Our boys air only tryin' to have their little fun. They don't mean
nothin', but someday some fool young guard'll hurt somebody and then
thar'll be hell to pay."

Hale could not help feeling considerable sympathy for their point of
view--particularly when he saw the mountaineers watching the Guard at
target-practice--each volunteer policeman with his back to the target,
and at the word of command wheeling and firing six shots in rapid
succession--and he did not wonder at their snorts of scorn at such bad
shooting and their open anger that the Guard was practising for THEM.
But sometimes he got an unexpected recruit. One bully, who had been
conspicuous in the brickyard trouble, after watching a drill went up to
him with a grin:

"Hell," he said cheerily, "I believe you fellers air goin' to have more
fun than we air, an' danged if I don't jine you, if you'll let me."

"Sure," said Hale. And others, who might have been bad men, became
members and, thus getting a vent for their energies, were as
enthusiastic for the law as they might have been against it.

Of course, the antagonistic element in the town lost no opportunity to
plague and harass the Guard, and after the destruction of the "blind
tigers," mischief was naturally concentrated in the high-license
saloons--particularly in the one run by Jack Woods, whose local power
for evil and cackling laugh seemed to mean nothing else than close
personal commun