d by the enemy until Snowfoot started for the fence. Even then
the excited boys did not see what was going on. But Peakslow did.

If Snowfoot had been in his usual spirits he would have soon been off
the Peakslow premises. But his long pull from Chicago had tamed him; and
though hunger induced him to follow the ear of corn, it was at a pace
which Jack found exasperatingly slow,--especially when he saw Peakslow
running to the pasture, gun in hand, and heard him shout,--

"Let that hoss alone! I'll shoot you, and your dog and hoss too!"

Jack answered by calling, "Co' jock! co' jock! Come, lion! Come,
Snowfoot! Co' jock!"

At the same time Zeph and Dud took the alarm, and ran toward the gap
Jack had made,--they on one side of the fence, while Rufe raced with
them on the other. Meanwhile Betterson, having coolly reloaded his
discharged barrel, walked with his usual quiet, dignified step to the
broken fence.

"Better keep this side," he said with deliberate politeness to Jack.
"You are on my land; you've a right here."

"Oh! but that horse never will come!" said Jack. "Co' jock! co' jock!"

"He is all right; keep cool, keep cool!" said Betterson.

On came Peakslow, the inverted prow of his hooked nose cutting the
air,--both hands grasping the gun, ready for a shot.

Jack did not heed him. Snatching the corn from Lion's mouth, he held it
out to Snowfoot: in a moment Snowfoot was crunching corn and bits, and
the bridle was slipping over his ears.

"Head him off, boys!" shouted Peakslow. Then to Jack, "Stop, or I'll
shoot!"

"If there's any shooting to be done," said Betterson, without for a
moment losing his politeness of tone and manner, "I can shoot as quick
as anybody; and, by the powers above, I will, if you draw trigger on
that boy!"

"Take care of him,--go!" cried Jack, giving Lion the bridle-rein and
Snowfoot a slap. Then confronting Peakslow, "I've got my horse; I'm on
Mr. Betterson's land; what have you to say about it?"

[Illustration: "STOP, OR I'LL SHOOT!"]

"I'll shoot your dog!"

"No, you won't!" And Jack sprang between the infuriated man and Lion
leading off the horse.

Dud and Zeph were by this time on Betterson's side of the fence,
hurrying to head off Snowfoot.

"Keep out of our buckwheat!" cried Rufe. "By George, Zeph, now I've got
you where I want you."

"Help! Dud, Dud--help!" screamed Zeph.

But Dud had something else to do. He sprang to seize Snowfoot's bridle;
when Lion, withou