spo'tin' rifle he had brought from the Barony, and suspended from
his shoulder by a leather thong was the big horn flask with its
hickory stopper his Uncle Bob had fashioned for him, while a
deerskin pouch held his bullets and an extra flint or two. He
understood that beyond those smacks he had seen his Uncle Bob
fetch Mr. Blount, he himself was the real cause of this
excitement, that somebody, it was not plain to his mind just who,
was seeking to get him away from Scratch Hill, and that a
mysterious power called the Law would sooner or later be invoked
to this dread end. But he knew this much clearly, nothing would
induce him to leave his Uncle Bob! And his thin little fingers
nestled warmly against the man's hardened palm. Yancy looked
down and gave him a sunny, reassuring smile.

"It'll be all right, Nevvy," he said gently.

"You wouldn't let 'em take me, would you, Uncle Bob?" asked the
child in a fearful whisper.

"Such an idea ain't entered my head. And this here warranting is
just some of Dave Blount's cussedness."

"Uncle Bob, what'll they do to you?"

"Well, I reckon the squire'll feel obliged to do one of two
things. He'll either fine me or else he won't."

"What'll you do if he fines you?"

"Why, pay the fine, Nevvy--and then lick Dave Blount again for