From what seemed to be only a short distance in front of them
they could hear a voice upraised apparently in anger. Replying
to it were the tones of their leader.

"Seems to be trouble ahead of some kind," exclaimed Crawford.
"Come on, boys."

They all advanced close on his heels--guided by the sound of the
angry voice, which did not diminish in tone but apparently waxed
more and more furious as they drew nearer. Presently the
woodland thinned and the ground became dotted with stumps of
felled timber and in a few paces more they emerged on a small
peach orchard at the edge of which stood Rob Blake and a larger
and older boy. As Crawford and his followers came upon the scene
the elder lad, who seemed beside himself with rage, picked up a
large rock and was about to hurl it with all his might at Rob
when the young corporal dashed forward and held his hand up to
stay him.

"Here, what's all this trouble?" he demanded.

"You just keep out of it, Merritt Crawford," said the elder lad,
a hulking, thick-set youth with a mean look on his heavy
features. "I'm just reading this kid here a lesson. This
orchard is my father's and mine and you'll keep out of it in
future or suffer the consequences, understand?"

"Why, we aren't doing any harm," protested Rob Blake heatedly.

"I don't care what you are doing or not doing," retorted the