t your concertina.
Jerk the bellows for us."

"That I'll not!" screamed Uncle Pasco.

"It's music or walk home," said the boy. "Take your choice."

Uncle Pasco took his choice, opening with the melody of "The Last Rose
of Summer." The sleigh whirled up the Owyhee by the winter willows, and
the levels, and the meadow pools, bright frozen under the blue sky.
Late in this day the amazed Brock by his corrals at Harper's beheld
arrive his favorite, his boy superintendent, driving in with the
schoolmaster staring through his glasses, and Uncle Pasco throwing
out active strains upon his concertina. The old man had been bidden to
bellows away for his neck.

Drake was not long in explaining his need to the men. "This thing must
be worked quick," said he. "Who'll stand by me?"

All of them would, and he took ten, with the faithful Brock. Brock would
not allow Gilbert to go, because he had received another mule-kick in
the stomach. Nor was Bolles permitted to be of the expedition. To all
his protests, Drake had but the single word: "This is not your fight,
old man. You've done your share with Baby Bunting."

Thus was the school-master in sorrow compelled to see them start back
to Indian Creek and the Malheur without him. With him Uncle Pasco would
have joyfully exchanged. He was taken along with the avengers. They
would not wring his neck, but they would play cat and mouse with him and
his concertina; and they did. But the conscience of Bolles still toiled.
When Drake and the men were safe away, he got on the wagon going for the
mail, thus making his way next morning to the railroad and Boise, where
Max Vogel listened to him; and together this couple hastily took train
and team for the Malheur Agency.

The avengers reached Indian Creek duly, and the fourth day after his
Christmas dinner Drake came once more in sight of Castle Rock.

"I am doing this thing myself, understand," he said to Brock. "I am
responsible."

"We're here to take your orders," returned the foreman. But as the
agency buildings grew plain and the time for action was coming, Brock's
anxious heart spoke out of its fulness. "If they start in to--to--they
might--I wish you'd let me get in front," he begged, all at once.

"I thought you thought better of me," said Drake.

"Excuse me," said the man. Then presently: "I don't see how anybody
could 'a' told he'd smuggle whiskey that way. If the old man [Brock
meant Max Vogel] goes to blame you, I'll give him