ld see the flash of a drawn pistol or the glint
of a "dirk-knife."

Then, coming reluctantly, yet keyed to his hard duty by the
consciousness of Kinnard Towers' scrutiny, Jud White, the town marshal,
arrived and laid a hand on Bear Cat's shoulder.

"I reckon," he said, licking his lips, "ye'll hev ter come ter ther
jail-house with me, Bear Cat."

"What fer, Jud?" inquired Turner quietly, though the tawny fire was
burning in his eyes. "I didn't shoot them shoots."

"Folks ses ye did, Bear Cat."

"Them folks lies."

A sudden crescendo of violent outcry interrupted their debate. Through
it came shouts of: "Kill ther blasphemer!" "String him up!"

With a sudden flash of sardonic humor in his eyes Bear Cat suggested
softly: "I reckon, Jud, hit's yore duty ter kinderly protect yore
prisoner, hain't hit?"

A cold sweat broke out over the face of the town officer and as he
stood irresolute, the crowd, in which mob passion was spreading like
flames in dry grass, swayed in a brief indicision--and in that moment
Brother Fulkerson stood forward, raising his arms above his head.

"Brethren," he cried in a voice that trembled, "I implores ye ter
listen ter me. I hain't never lied ter ye afore now, an' unless my
labors hev been fer naught, I des'arves ter be h'arkened to."

Curiosity prevailed and the din subsided enough to let the evangelist
be heard.

"I was standin' right hyar by Bear Cat Stacy when them shots war
fired," Fulkerson went on earnestly, "an' I swears ter ye, with
Almighty God fer my witness, thet he didn't hev nothin' more ter do
with hit then what I did."

As he paused a sarcastic voice from the crowd demanded: "Will ye swear
he didn't aim ter break up ther meetin' neither?"

"Let me answer that question," shouted Bear Cat Stacy, stepping
defiantly forward.

There was peril in that interruption, and the young man knew it. He
realized that only a savage, cat-and-mouse spirit of prolonging
excitement had, so far, held in leash the strained wrath of a crowd
worked already to frenzy. But the mountaineer loves oratory of any
sort, and a lynching need not be hurried through. They would have
listened to Brother Fulkerson--but would they give _him_ a hearing?

For a moment Bear Cat stood there, sweeping them with a gaze that held
no fear and a great deal of open scorn. The effrontery of his attitude,
the blaze of his eyes and even the rumors of his charmed life were
having their effects. Then he spoke: