"How?" inquired his chief.

"I'll serve out firearms to five or six of the men, and the next
time Pete shows his face we'll cover him and march him miles away
from camp."

"That wouldn't do any good," replied Mr. Thurston, with a shake
of his head. "Pete would only come back, uglier than before,
and he'd certainly shoot up some of our men."

"You asked me, a moment ago, Mr. Thurston, what I could do," Tom
broke in. "Give me a little time, and I'll agree to rid the camp
of Peter."

"How?" asked the chief abruptly. "Not with any gun-play! Pete
would be too quick for you at anything of that sort."

"I don't carry a pistol, and don't wish to do so," Tom retorted.
"In my opinion only a coward carries a pistol."

"Then you think Bad Pete is a coward, young man?" returned the
chief.

"If driven into a corner I'm pretty sure he'd turn out to be one,
sir," Tom went on earnestly. "A coward is a man who's afraid.
If a fellow isn't afraid of anything, then why does he have to
carry firearms to protect himself?"

"I don't believe that would quite apply to Pete," Mr. Thurston
went on. "Pete doesn't carry a revolver because he's afraid of