The old man leaned his rifle against a tree, spat on his hands, cut a
clumsy caper in air, and gave tongue in a yell that should have been
heard by Tarleton's men at Appleby.

"By the eternal 'coonskins! I can gouge the eye out of ary man that says
Eph Yeates carn't stand up fair and square and whop his weight in
wildcats; and I can do it now, _if_ not sooner!" he shrilled. "Come on,
you pap-eating, apron-stringed, French-daddied--"

Where the blast of vituperative insult would have spent itself in
natural course we were not to know, for in the midst another of the
borderers, a wiry little man in greasy deerskin, came up behind the
capering ancient, whipped an arm around his neck, and in a trice the two
went down, kicking, scratching, buffeting and mauling, as like to a
pair of battling bobcats as was ever seen.

For a moment I thought my youngster would let them have it out to the
finish, but he did not. At his order some of the others pulled the twain
apart, reluctantly, I fancied; and when the thing was done the old man
caught up his rifle and strode away in blackest wrath without a look
behind him.

Captain Forney shrugged and spread his hands as his French father might
have done.

"Now you know wherein our weakness lies, Captain Ireton," he said.
"There goes as true a man and as keen a shot as ever pulled trigger. Let
him fight in his own way, and he'll take cover and name his man for
every bullet in his pouch. But as for yielding to decent authority, or
standing against trained troops in open field--" He shrugged again and