oughtn't to have let them go," she returned, nervously.

"Pooh! They're all right; that scalawag's half-way to Six-Cross-Roads by
this time, isn't he, William?"

"He tuck up the fence like a scared rabbit," Mr. Todd responded, looking
into his hat to avoid meeting the eyes of the lady. "I didn't have no
call to toller, and he knowed how to run, I reckon. Time Mr. Harkless
come out the yard again, he was near out o' sight, and we see him take
across the road to the wedge-woods, near half-a-mile up. Somebody else
with him then--looked like a kid. Must 'a' cut acrost the field to join
him. They're fur enough towards home by this."

"Did Miss Helen shake hands with you four or five times?" asked Briscoe,
chuckling.

"No. Why?"

"Because Harkless did. My hand aches, and I guess William's does, too;
he nearly shook our arms off when we told him he'd been a fool. Seemed
to do him good. I told him he ought to hire somebody to take a shot at
him every morning before breakfast--not that it's any joking matter,"
the old gentleman finished, thoughtfully.

"I should say not," said William, with a deep frown and a jerk of his
head toward the rear of the house. "_He_ jokes about it enough. Wouldn't
even promise to carry a gun after this. Said he wouldn't know how to use
it. Never shot one off since he was a boy, on the Fourth of July. This
is the third time he's be'n shot at this year, but he says the others
was at a--a--what'd he call it?"

"'A merely complimentary range,'" Briscoe supplied. He handed William a
cigar and bit the end off another himself. "Minnie, you better go in the
house and read, I expect--unless you want to go down the creek and join
those folks."

"_Me_!" she responded. "I know when to stay away, I guess. Do go and put
that terrible gun up."

"No," said Briscoe, lighting his cigar, deliberately. "It's all safe;
there's no question of that; but maybe William and I better go out and
take a smoke in the orchard as long as they stay down at the creek."

In the garden, shafts of white light pierced the bordering trees and
fell where June roses lifted their heads to breathe the mild night
breeze, and here, through summer spells, the editor of the "Herald" and
the lady who had run to him at the pasture bars strolled down a path
trembling with shadows to where the shallow creek tinkled over the
pebbles. They walked slowly, with an air of being well-accustomed
friends and comrades, and for some reason it did n