ied to its climax. Mary was older
than Will, but she plainly showed her preference for him over Master
Gobel. Steve had never distinguished himself in an Indian fight; he was
not a hero, but just a plain boy.

Now, indeed, was Will's life unendurable; "patience had had its perfect
work." He knew that a boy of twelve, however strong and sinewy, was
not a match for an almost full-grown man; so, to balance matters, he
secreted on his person an old bowie-knife. When next he met Steve,
the latter climaxed his bullying tactics by striking the object of his
resentment; but he was unprepared for the sudden leap that bore him
backward to the earth. Size and strength told swiftly in the struggle
that succeeded, but Will, with a dextrous thrust, put the point of the
bowie into the fleshy part of Steve's lower leg, a spot where he knew
the cut would not be serious.

The stricken bully shrieked that he was killed; the children gathered
round, and screamed loudly at the sight of blood. "Will Cody has killed
Steve Gobel!" was the wailing cry, and Will, though he knew Steve was
but pinked, began to realize that frontier styles of combat were not
esteemed in communities given up to the soberer pursuits of spelling,
arithmetic, and history. Steve, he knew, was more frightened than hurt;
but the picture of the prostrate, ensanguined youth, and the group of
awestricken children, bore in upon his mind the truth that his act was
an infraction of the civil code; that even in self-defense, he had no
right to use a knife unless his life was threatened.

The irate pedagogue was hastening to the scene, and after one glance at
him, Will incontinently fled. At the road he came upon a wagon train,
and with a shout of joy recognized in the "boss" John Willis, a
wagon-master employed by Russell, Majors & Waddell, and a great friend
of the "boy extra." Will climbed up behind Willis on his horse, and
related his escapade to a close and sympathetic listener.

"If you say so, Billy," was his comment, "I'll go over and lick the
whole outfit, and stampede the school."

"No, let the school alone," replied Will; "but I guess I'll graduate, if
you'll let me go along with you this trip."

Willis readily agreed, but insisted upon returning to the schoolhouse.
"I m not going," said he, "to let you be beaten by a bully of a boy, and
a Yankee school-teacher, with a little learning, but not a bit of sand."
His idea of equalizing forces was that he and "Little