stirring up trouble. That's the way we most in general do. I
mean to say give him a good licking, and that'll make him stop
his foolishness."

"Wasn't that a good licking you gave him on the Ox Road, Uncle
Bob?" asked Hannibal.

"It was pretty fair fo' a starter, but I'm capable of doing a
better job," responded Yancy.

They overtook Uncle Sammy as he turned in at the squire's.

"I thought I'd come and see what kind of law a body gets at this
here co't of yours," the patriarch explained to Mr. Balaam, who,
forgetting his lumbago, had hurried forth to greet him.

"But why did you fetch your gun, Uncle Sammy?" asked the
magistrate, laughing.

"Hit were to be on the safe side, Squire. Where air them
Blounts?"

"Them Blounts don't need to bother you none. There air only
Dave, and he can't more than half see out of one eye to-day."

The squire's court held its infrequent sittings in the best room
of the Balaam homestead, a double cabin of hewn logs. Here
Scratch Hill was gratified with a view of Mr. Blount's battered
visage, and it was conceded that his condition reflected
creditably on Yancy's physical prowess and was of a character