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The Story of Kennett by Bayard Taylor
page 234 of 484 (48%)
Some of the volunteers started back, others pressed closer together. The
pert youth, alone, who was to form the third party, brought his musket
to his shoulder.

Quick as lightning Sandy Flash drew a pistol from his belt and levelled
it at the young man's breast.

"Ground arms!" he cried, "or you are a dead man."

He was obeyed, although slowly and with grinding teeth.

"Stand aside!" he then commanded. "_You_ have pluck, and I should hate
to shoot you. Make way, the rest o' ye! I've saved ye the trouble o'
ridin' far to find me. Whoever puts finger to trigger, falls. Back,
back, I say, and open the door for me!"

Still advancing as he spoke, and shifting his pistol so as to cover now
one, now another of the group, he reached the tavern-porch. Some one
opened the door of the barroom, which swung inwards. The highwayman
strode directly to the bar, and there stood, facing the open door, while
he cried to the trembling bar-keeper,--

"A glass o' Rye, good and strong!"

It was set before him. Holding the musket in his arm, he took the glass,
drank, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and then, spinning a
silver dollar into the air, said, as it rang upon the floor,--

"_I_ stand treat to-day; let the rest o' the gentlemen drink at my
expense!"
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