bel had gone off with Frank, but left his dog and negro behind, armed
themselves with clubs. When all was ready, Winch gave the word, and
forward they dashed at the doublequick, clearing more than half the space
intervening between them and the barns, before they were discovered by
the enemy. Then the dog bounded out with a bark, and the old negro began
to "holler," and the rebel's wife and daughter ran out and screamed, and
an old negress also appeared, brandishing a broom, and adding her voice
to the chorus.

At this moment the report of a gun came from the direction in which the
secessionist had gone off with Frank.

John Winch heard it, just as the dog met the charging party. Who was
killed? Frank or Seth? John did not know, but he was frightened. He had
come for fun and poultry, not for fighting and bullets. Neither was he
particularly ambitions to be bitten by that monstrous dog. He lost faith
in his club, and dropped it. He lost confidence in the prowess of his
companions, and deserted them. In short, Jack Winch, who had been one of
the most eager to engage in the adventure, took ignominiously to his
heels.

He reached the thicket before venturing to look behind him. Then he saw
that his comrades had frightened away the negro, beaten back the dog, and
taken the turkey-pen by storm. He would now have been but too glad to
join them; but it was too late. Having accomplished their undertaking,
they were returning, each bringing, pendent by the legs, a flopping fowl.

It is better to be a brave man than a coward, even in a bad cause.
Fortune often favors brave men in the wrong in preference to aiding
cowards in the right, for Fortune loves not a poltroon. John Winch felt
at that moment that nobody henceforth would love or favor him, and he
began to frame excuses for his shameful conduct.

"Hello, Jack Winch," cried Ellis, coming up with a turkey in one hand
and a chicken in the other, "you're a smart leader--to run away from a
yelping dog like that!"

"Coward! coward!" chimed in the others, with angry contempt.

"I sprained my ankle. Didn't you know it?" said the miserable Jack, with
a writhing countenance, limping.

"Sprained your granny!" exclaimed Harris. "I never saw a sprained ankle
go over the ground as fast as yours did, just as we came to the dog."

"Then I heard the gun," said Jack, "and I was afraid either Seth or Frank
was shot."

"Woe to the man of turkeys if they are!" said Joe, twisting the ne