be pulled off." With these words Very threw his foot
over Bob's back and lighted on the ground.

Instantly he was surrounded by Wiles, Turner, and two other ruffians.
Bert Danks still held Bob by the bit.

Very looked about him as best he could, and saw a smouldering fire
beneath a large pot. In this pot was a large quantity of tar which had
been somewhat heated to soften it, and close by lay a gunny bag
containing feathers, while still beyond was a long fence rail which had
been taken from a zigzag fence not far away.

"Now, if you'll be so kind, please take off yer preacher's coat and
shirt; and if you find de weather too cold for comfort, we uns will put
on anudder coat which will keep out de air," remarked Wiles.

"A matter of necessity need not be discussed," said the traveler, and
with this remark he pulled off his long clerical outer garment.

Very did this for a double purpose: first, to free himself from
incumbrance when he needed to use his arms; and, secondly, by removing
suspicion of resistance, to take his enemies off their guard.

No sooner had he slipped his coat off than he gave a loud whistle, and
shooting out his right fist with all his strength, struck Wiles
squarely on the jaw and sent him sprawling on the ground several feet
away. This was the beginning of a strenuous fight. The moment his chief
was knocked down Zibe Turner, the monster dwarf, sprang upon Very, and
putting one of his apelike arms around his neck, cried: "Dat's my
holt." With the other arm he began hitting the parson about the head
and body. At the same time the other men were trying to throw him off
his feet. Very, knowing help was near at hand, made almost superhuman
efforts to stand his ground, though he was half suffocated and stunned
by the dwarf's hug and blows.

Very's whistle was answered by a shout down the road, and almost
instantly the forms of five men appeared. The outlaws, though
surprised, were not panic-stricken, and they met the attack of the
constables and preachers with reckless bravery. For a quarter of an
hour things were in a strange mix-up. Wiles, rising from the ground,
was making for Very, when a burly constable hurrying up caught the
outlaw and together they fell squirming, rolling, twisting, fighting
over the ground.

Another officer made a break for Bert Danks. Letting go of Bob's
bridle, he clenched with his man, and they were fighting like two
possessed. Nathaniel Grimes, the great red-headed, r