n
his hand.

"I say, are you trying to kill me?" cried the miserly money-lender of
Crumville, as he came closer, and he shook his whip at Dave.

"Why, no, Mr. Poole," answered Dave, as calmly as he could. "What makes
you think that?"

"Oh, you needn't play innocent," snarled Aaron Poole. "You just fired a
shot at me! It went through my buggy top." And the money-lender pointed
to the back road, where stood his horse and carriage. "Nice doings, I
must say!"

"Mr. Poole, I didn't fire at you," answered Dave. "I didn't know anybody
was out there on the road,--and I didn't fire in that direction."

"You fired into the bushes, when you tried the pistol," said Roger, in a
low voice.

"Maybe the bullet went through the bushes," suggested the shipowner's
son.

"You fired at me--I heard the shot and saw you with the pistol!" stormed
Aaron Poole. "I've a good mind to have you arrested!"

"Mr. Poole, why should I fire at you?" asked Dave. "I----"

"Oh, you needn't try to smooth it over, you young rascal! I know you!
You are down on me because I made Caspar Potts pay me what was due, and
you are down on my son Nat because he is more popular at Oak Hall than
anybody else."

"Well, to hear that!" whispered Phil. He knew, as well as did the
others, that overbearing Nat Poole had scarcely a friend left at the
school the lads attended. On several occasions Nat had tried to harm
Dave, but each time he had gotten the worst of it.

"I didn't fire at you--didn't know anybody was on the back road,"
protested Dave. "If a bullet went through your buggy top I am sorry for
it, but I am also glad it didn't go through your head." And Dave had to
shudder as he thought of what might have happened. "After this I'll be
more careful when I shoot."

"Oh, don't you try to smooth it over!" snarled Aaron Poole. "I know you
of old, Dave Porter! You are always up to some underhanded tricks. Nat
knows you, too! Maybe you didn't mean to kill me, but you meant to scare
me, and you took a big chance, for I might have been hit. I think I'll
swear out a warrant for your arrest."

"Oh, Mr. Poole, don't do that!" cried Phil, in alarm. "Dave didn't know
anybody was back there. It was purely an accident."

"Humph! Who are you, I'd like to know?"

"I am Phil Lawrence. I go to Oak Hall with Dave. I think we have met
before."

"Oh, yes, I've heard of you--through my son, Nat. You sided with Porter
against my son. Of course you'll stick up for Porter