hell out o'
yeh," said Steve, who had recovered himself sufficiently to know what it
all meant. He lay upon the grass behind the rest and was weakly trying
to get his revolver sighted upon Lime. One of the men caught him by the
shoulder and the rest yelled:

"Hyare, Steve, no shootin'. It was a fair go, and you're whipped."

Steve only repeated his warnings to get out of the way. Lime turned upon
him and kicked the weapon from his outstretched hand, breaking his arm
at the wrist. The bullet went flying harmlessly into the air, and the
revolver hurtled away into the shadows.

Walking through the ring, Lime took John by the hand and said: "Come,
boy, this is no place for you. Let's go home. Fellers," he drawled in
his customary lazy way, "when y' want me you know where to find me.
Come, boys, the circus is over, the last dog is hung."

For the first mile or two there was a good deal of talk, and Bill said
he knew that Lime could whip the whole crowd.

"But where was you, Bill, about the time they had me down? I don't
remember hearin' anything of you 'long about that time, Bill."

Bill had nothing to say.

"Made me think somehow of Daniel in the lions' den," said Johnny.

"What do you mean by that, Johnny?" said Bill. "It made me think of a
circus. The circus there'll be when Lime's woman finds out what he's
been a-doin'."

"Great Scott, boys, you mustn't tell on me," said Lime, in genuine
alarm.

As for John, he lay with his head in Lime's lap, looking up at the glory
of the starlit night, and with a confused mingling of the play, of the
voice of the lovely woman, of the shouts and blows at the brewery in his
mind, and with the murmur of the river and the roll and rumble of the
wagon blending in his ears, he fell into a sleep which the rhythmic beat
of the horses' hoofs did not interrupt.

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PART VI.

VILLAGE CRONIES: A GAME OF CHECKERS AT THE GROCERY

The village life abounds with jokers,
Shiftless, conscienceless and shrewd.

SOME VILLAGE CRONIES.

Colonel Peavy had just begun the rubber with Squire Gordon, of Cerro
Gordo County. They were seated in Robie's grocery, behind the rusty old
cannon stove, the checkerboard spread out on their knees. The Colonel
was grinning in great glee, wringing his bony yellow hands in nervous
excitement, in strong contrast to the stolid calm of the fat Squire.

The Colonel had won