tabs on the young
farmer's progress, for, he had no more than pulled the posts out of
the water-hole and started to reset them on the proper line, than the
long-legged Pete Dickerson appeared.

"Hey, you!" shouted Pete. "What are you monkeying with that line fence
for?"

"Because I won't have time to fix it later," responded Hiram, calmly.

"Fresh Ike, ain't yer?" demanded young Dickerson.

He was half a head taller than Hiram, and plainly felt himself safe in
adopting bullying tactics.

"You put them posts back where you found 'em and string the wires again
in a hurry--or I'll make yer."

"This is Mrs. Atterson's fence," said Hiram, quietly. "I have made
inquiries about the line, and I know where it belongs."

"No part of this water-hole belongs on your side of the fence,
Dickerson, and as long as I represent Mrs. Atterson it's not going to be
grabbed."

"Say! the old man gave my father the right to a part of this hole long
ago."

"Show your legal paper to that effect," promptly suggested Hiram. "Then
we will let it stand until the lawyers decide the matter."

Pete was silent for a minute; meanwhile Hiram continued to dig his hole,
and finally set the first post into place.

"I tell you to take that post out o' there, Mister," exclaimed Pete,
suddenly approaching the other. "I don't like you, anyway. You helped
git me turned off up there to Bronson's yesterday. If you wouldn't have
put your fresh mouth in about the horse that gal wouldn't have knowed
so much to tell her father. Now you stop foolin' with this fence or I'll
lick you."

Hiram Strong's disposition was far from being quarrelsome. He only
laughed at first and said:

"Why, that won't do you any good in the end, Peter. Thrashing me won't
give you and your father the right to usurp rights at this water-hole.

"There was very good reason, as I can see, for old Mr. Atterson refusing
to let you water your stock here. In time of drouth the branch probably
furnished no more water than his own cattle needed. And it will be the
same with my employer."

"You'd better have less talk about it, and set back them posts,"
declared Pete, decidedly, laying off his coat and pulling up his shirt
sleeves.

"I hope you won't try anything foolish, Peter," said Hiram, resting on
his shovel handle.

"Huh!" grunted Pete, eyeing him sideways as might an evil-disposed dog.

"We're not well matched," observed Hiram, quietly, "and whether you
thrashed me, or I t