und the house by the rear--the
ridge was too steep--so he drew off into the bushes, where he had to
wait another hour before the talking ceased. There was only one more
house now between him and the mouth of the creek, where he would be
safe, and he made up his mind to dash by it. That house, too, was
lighted and the sound of fiddling struck his ears. He would give them a
surprise; so he gathered his reins and Winchester in his left hand, drew
his revolver with his right, and within thirty yards started his horse
into a run, yelling like an Indian and firing his pistol in the air.
As he swept by, two or three figures dashed pell-mell indoors, and he
shouted derisively:

"Run, damn ye, run!" They were running for their guns, he knew, but
the taunt would hurt and he was pleased. As he swept by the edge of a
cornfield, there was a flash of light from the base of a cliff straight
across, and a bullet sang over him, then another and another, but he
sped on, cursing and yelling and shooting his own Winchester up in the
air--all harmless, useless, but just to hurl defiance and taunt them
with his safety. His father's house was not far away, there was no sound
of pursuit, and when he reached the river he drew down to a walk and
stopped short in a shadow. Something had clicked in the bushes above him
and he bent over his saddle and lay close to his horse's neck. The moon
was rising behind him and its light was creeping toward him through the
bushes. In a moment he would be full in its yellow light, and he was
slipping from his horse to dart aside into the bushes, when a voice
ahead of him called sharply:

"That you, Dave?"

It was his father, and the boy's answer was a loud laugh. Several men
stepped from the bushes--they had heard firing and, fearing that young
Dave was the cause of it, they had run to his help.

"What the hell you mean, boy, kickin' up such a racket?"

"Oh, I knowed somethin'd happened an' I wanted to skeer 'em a leetle."

"Yes, an' you never thought o' the trouble you might be causin' us."

"Don't you bother about me. I can take keer o' myself."

Old Dave Tolliver grunted--though at heart he was deeply pleased.

"Well, you come on home!"

All went silently--the boy getting meagre monosyllabic answers to his
eager questions but, by the time they reached home, he had gathered the
story of what had happened in town that day. There were more men in
the porch of the house and all were armed. The women o