"Look a-hyeh, boy-" he began, roughly, and mumbling a threat,
started on.

Uh, Eli! " Even then the easy voice fooled him again, and he
turned. Isom had a big revolver on a line with his breast. " Drap
yer gun! " he said, tremulously.

Crump tried to laugh, but his guilty face turned gray. "Take keer,
boy," he gasped; "yer gun's cocked. Take keer, I tell ye!

Drap it, damn ye! " Isom called in sudden fury, " 'n' git clean away
from it! " Crump backed, and Isom came forward and stood with
one foot on the fallen Winchester.

"I seed ye, Eli. Been makin' a blind fer Steve, hev ye? Coin' to
shoot him in the back, too, air ye? You're ketched at last, Eli.
You've done a heap o' devilmcnt. You're gittin' wuss all the time.
You oughter be dead, 'n' now-"

Crump found voice in a cry of terror and a whine for mercy. The
boy looked at him, unable to speak his contempt.

"Cit down thar! " he said, finally; and Crump, knowing what was
wanted, stretched himself in the road. Isom sat down on a stone,
the big pistol across one knee.

"Roll over! " Crump rolled at full length.

"Git up! " Isom laughed wickedly. "Ye don't look purty, Eli." He