ad heard a few words as
to the evening's adventure, insisted upon hearing all of it before
they would let Dick turn in.

"I'll bet they're sore in Miller's place tonight," chuckled Greg,
just before be extinguished the second lantern.

Certainly anger did reign in Miller's place for the rest of that
evening.

Miller had been brought to consciousness, after considerable effort.
He was even able to be up and about his place, but his swollen
features looked like a caricature of a face.

"The schoolboy that was able to do that to you, Miller, must have
been eight feet high and as wide as a gate," remarked one of the
red-nosed patrons of the place.

"Shut up!" was Miller's gracious response.

There were other drinking places in Fenton, and to these the news of
the big fellow's drubbing quickly spread.

Indeed, the fight seemed to be the one topic of the talk of Fenton
that evening.

As it happened, it wasn't very long before word was brought to
Miller that Dick and his friends were camping down on Andy Hartshorn's
place.

"It's queer that Hartshorn will let such young toughs stop on
his land!" growled Miller.

"They ought to be chased out of town---that's what!" growled a
patron of the place.

More of this talk was heard, until finally someone demanded thickly:

"Well, why can't we chase 'em out of town?"

At first, the idea met with instant favor among the dozen or more
worthless men gathered in Miller's saloon. The plan grew in favor
until one man, slighter than the rest, observed:

"Say! Stop and think of one thing. We know what one of the boys
did to Miller, and there are six of those boys down at the camp!"

That rather cast a damper over the enthusiasm until one blear-eyed
man of fifty observed, knowingly:

"Well, we don't need to go alone. There are other men in Fenton
who think the way we do. We can go down to the woods in force,
and pretend that what we want to do comes as a rebuke administered
by the citizens of Fenton."

"Hurrah!" cheered one man who seemed in danger of falling asleep.

"Miller, let us use your telephone," urged the former speaker.

"No, you can't," retorted the liquor seller quickly. "It's all
right for you men to do whatever you think is right, but you've
got to remember that I've got to be kept out of whatever happens."

Well enough did the wretch know that half-hearted opposition from
him would only fan the flame hotter among the men who considered
themselves