"Jim Ferrers will be awfully displeased, you do," drawled Tom.
"Do you know Jim? He has a reputation, I believe, for being
rather sore on folks who shoot up his friends."

"I'll do it for you, anyway, kid!" growled one of the four, leveling
his rifle.

But their leader struck the weapon up angrily just before the
shot barked out.

"Who's having Fourth of July around here?" called a laughing voice
from some distance down the rising path at the rear of the quartette.
The four men turned quickly, but Tom had recognized joyfully
the tones of Harry Hazelton's voice.

"You keep out of here, stranger!" ordered one of the quartette
gruffly.

"Don't you do anything of the sort, Harry!" roared Reade's voice.
"You keep right on an join us."

"Did you hear my advice?" insisted the leader of the four, holding
his rifle as though would throw the butt to his shoulder.

"Yes," said Hazelton, calmly, "but I also heard my senior partner's
order. He and I stick together. Gangway, please."

Harry was cool enough as he rode his horse at a walk past the
men. Hazelton will never understand how near death he was at