"What's all this about?" he asked. "In trouble agin, eh?"

"I've been insulted by _that_?" and Curly motioned to Reynolds.

"An' so yer goin' to shoot?"

"I certainly am, so leave me alone."

"An unarmed man?"

"What in h---- do I care whether he's armed or unarmed?"

"H'm, I guess ye'd care if he had a gun in his hands."

"Let him do it, Samson." It was Reynolds speaking. "An unarmed man is
the only one he would try to shoot. He took mighty good care to keep
out of range of the German guns during the war."

"You're a liar," Curly yelled, for the taunt stung him to the quick.

"Then the lie is on your own bead," was the quiet reply. "You and
others have made the boast that you hid in the mountains and could not
be caught when men were so sorely needed at the Front. If it's a lie,
then you lied first, so don't blame me."

Curly's only response was to raise his revolver and fire. But Samson's
hand struck the weapon in time to divert the aim, and no harm was done.

"Thar, that's enough of sich nonsense." The old prospector's voice was
more than usually stern. "I'm not goin' to stand here an' see a man