nt yappin' pretty to
a sorrel-topped gal."

Abe Allinson laughed.

"It's sure up to you, Ike," he said. "Guess you best git busy right
away."

The rest waited for the youngster's acceptance of the responsibility,
which promptly came with perfect good-will.

"Gee! But you're a gritty outfit," he cried, with a wide grin.
"Say, I guess you'd need a fence around you shootin' jack-rabbits.
Jack-rabbits is ter'ble fierce. Guess you'd most be skeered to death
at a skippin' lamb bleatin' fer its mother. Can't say I ever heerd
tell as a feller need be skeered of a pair o' gal's eyes, nor a sight
o' red ha'r. You said it was red, Pete, didn't you? I'd sure say a
bright feller don't need to worry any over talkin' pretty to a gal
like that. She's up agin a proposition if she thinks she ken skeer me.
Wher' is she? Jest call her out. She's goin' to git her med'cine right
here in the open. I ain't doin' no parlor tricks."

The boy stood out from the crowd with a decided show of mild bravado,
but he glanced about him, seeking the moral support of his fellows.

"You best knock on the door, Ike," said Curly quietly.

Ike hesitated. Then he turned doubtfully to those behind.

"You--you mean that?" he inquired. "You ain't foolin' none?" Then, as
though realizing his own weakness, he began to bluster. "Cos I ain't
takin' no foolin' in a racket o' this sort. An' any feller thinks he
ken fool me'll sure hate hisself when I'm through with him."

A mild snicker greeted his "big talk," and the boy flushed hotly. He
was half-inclined to add further resentment, but, second thoughts
prevailing, he abruptly turned to the door and hammered on it as
though anticipating stern resistance from those within.

* * * * *

Inside the house Mrs. Ransford was debating the situation with her
mistress. She had witnessed the advance of the besieging party, and,
half-frightened and half-resentful, the latter perhaps the more
plainly manifested, she was detailing in unmeasured terms her opinions
and fears to the still harassed girl.

"Jest git a peek at 'em through the window, miss--'ma'm' I should say,
on'y I don't allus remember right, as you might say. Ther's twenty an'
more o' the lowest down bums ever I see outside a State penitentiary.
They're sure the most ter'blest lot ever I did see. An' they got
'emselves fixed up wi' guns an' knives, an' what not an' sech, till
you can't see the color o' their clothes fer the