" said the father with a grim smile. "I should like to see
him try."

"So should I, dad, if you were around. I think I see you--feint with
the right, then left, right, left! bing! bang! bung! All over but the
shiver, eh, dad? It would be sweet! But," he added regretfully, "that's
the very thing a fellow cannot do."

"Cannot do? And why not, pray? It is what every fellow is in duty bound
to do to a bully of that sort."

"Yes, but to be quite fair, dad, you could hardly call Duff a bully. At
least, he wasn't bullying me. As a matter of fact, I was bullying him.
Oh, I think he had reason to be angry. When a chap undertakes to pull
another chap up for law breaking, perhaps he should be prepared to take
the consequences. But to go on. Bayne stepped in--awfully decent of
him, too,--when just at that moment, as novelists say, with startling
suddenness occurred an event that averted the impending calamity. Along
came Neil Fraser, no less, in that new car of his, in a whirlwind of
noise and dust, honking like a flock of wild geese. Well, you should
have seen those bronchos. One lurch, and we were on the ground, a
beautiful upset, and the bronchos in an incipient runaway, fortunately
checked by your humble servant. Duff, in a new and real rage this time,
up with his gun and banged off both barrels after the motor car, by this
time honking down the trail."

"By Jove! he deserved it," said the father. "Those motor fellows make me
long to do murder at times."

"That's because you have no car, Dad, of course."

"Did he hit him, do you think?"

"No. My arm happened to fly up, the gun banged toward the zenith.
Nothing doing!"

"Well, Barry, you do seem to have run foul of Mr. Duff."

"Three times, dad. But each time prevented him from breaking the law and
doing himself and others injury. Would you have let him off this last
time, dad?"

"No, no, boy. Human life has the first claim upon our care. You did
quite right, quite right. Ungovernable fool he must be! Shouldn't be
allowed to carry a gun."

"So Bayne declared," said Barry.

"Well, you have had quite an exciting afternoon. But finish your tea and
get ready for the meeting. I will wash up."

"Not if I know it, dad. You take your saw-horse and do me a little
Handel or Schubert. Do, please," entreated his son. "I want that before
meeting more than anything else. I want a change of mood. I confess I am
slightly rattled. My address is all prepared, but I must have atmo