his face, leaving a crimson streak upon the white left cheek.

The lash had scarcely fallen ere a big form hurled itself from the
store platform, and bounded along the road. It was Captain Josh who
had been an interested spectator of all that had taken place. His eyes
gleamed with a dangerous light, and the heavy stick in his right hand
struck the ground harder than usual as he strode up to the wagon.

"Ye coward!" he roared, coming between Rod and the irate teamster.
"How dare ye strike a little lad like that!"

"He scared me horses on purpose, an' then sassed me," was the surly
answer.

"None of yer lyin', Tom Dunker," said the captain laid his left hand
upon the top of the side-board, and shook it vehemently. "I saw the
whole affair, and don't ye try any of yer lies on me."

"What business is it of yourn, anyway, Josh Britt? It ain't your
funeral, is it? You git out of this, an' leave me alone!"

"Not my funeral, eh? It might have been one fer the lad here, though,
if you had yer way. I saw ye pull yer horses over to scare him, and
when he spoke up to ye like a man, ye slashed him with yer whip. He
didn't sass ye, not a bit of it."

"Well, you'll git the same, then, ye old fool," and once more Tom
raised his whip to strike.

He was not dealing with a boy now, however, but with the strongest man