o death, and
that was a story that was worth speakin' of. It--"

There was a hoarse bellow of "Giddap!" up behind the willows. Then
into sight came galloping the tall, gaunt horse of Colonel Gideon
Ward. The Colonel stood up, smacking his whip.

With one leap the Cap'n was at his rope, and began to haul in hand
over hand.

The big gate at the mouth of the bridge squalled on its rusty hinges.

"You mustn't shut that gate--you mustn't!" shrieked the little woman.
She ran and clutched at his sturdy arms. "That's my brother that's
coming! You'll break his neck!"

The gate was already half shut, and the doughty skipper kept on
pulling at the rope.

"Can't help it, ma'am, if it's the apostle Paul," he gritted. "There
ain't nobody goin' to run toll on this bridge."

"It will kill him."

"It's him that's lickin' that hoss. 'Tain't me."

"It's my brother, I tell you!" She tried to drag the rope out of his
hands, but he shook her off, pulled the big gate shut, set his teeth,
clung to the rope, and waited.

The rush down the hill had been so impetuous and the horse was now
running so madly under the whip that there was no such thing as
checking him. With a crash of splintering wood he drove breast-on
against the gate, throwing up his bony head at the end of his scraggy
neck. At the crash the woman screamed and covered her eyes. But the
outfit was too much of a catapult to be stopped. Through the gate
it went, and the wagon roared away through the bridge, the driver
yelling oaths behind him.

Cap'n Aaron Sproul walked out and strolled among the scattered debris,
kicking it gloomily to right and left. The woman followed him.

"It was awful," she half sobbed.

"So you're Miss Jane Ward, be ye?" he growled, glancing at her from
under his knotted eyebrows. "Speakin' of your pets, I should reckon
that 'ere brother of yourn wa'n't one that you had tamed down fit
to be turned loose. But you tell him for me, the next time you see
him, that I'll plug the end of that bridge against him if it takes
ev'ry dum cent of the prop'ty I'm wuth--and that's thutty thousand
dollars, if it's a cent. I ain't none of your two-cent chaps!" he
roared, visiting his wrath vicariously on her as a representative
of the family. "I've got money of my own. Your brother seems to have
made door-mats out'n most of the folks round here, but I'll tell ye
that he's wiped his feet on me for the last time. You tell him that,
dum him!"

Her face was whi