poke. His mates stood around him,
listening rather studiedly to the conversation. They seemed of the lower
class of laboring men. Their appearance was so grotesque, in connection
with the lofty title their chief had given them, that Farnham could not
help smiling, in spite of his anger.

"What is your special line of reform?" he asked,--"spelling, or civil
service?"

"We are Labor Reformers," said the spokesman. "We represent the toiling
millions against the bloated capitalists and grinding monopolies; we
believe that man is better----"

"Yes, no doubt," interrupted Farnham; "but how are you going to help
the toiling millions by stopping my horse on the highway?"

"We was holding a meeting which was kep' secret for reasons
satisfactory to ourselves. These two gentlemen was posted here to keep
out intruders from the lodge. If you had 'a' spoke civil to them, there
would have been no harm done. None will be done now if you want to go."

Farnham at once mounted his horse. "I would take it as a great favor,"
he said, "if you would give me your name and that of the gentleman with
the pistol. Where is he, by the way?" he continued. The man they called
Bowersox had disappeared from the group around the spokesman. Farnham
turned and saw him a little distance away directly behind him. He had
repossessed himself of his pistol and held it cocked in his hand.

"What do you want of our names?" the spokesman asked.

Farnham did not again lose sight of Bowersox. It occurred to him that
the interview might as well be closed. He therefore said, carelessly,
without turning:

"A man has a natural curiosity to know the names of new acquaintances.
But no matter, I suppose the police know you," and rode away.

Bowersox turned to Offitt and said, "Why in ---- did you let him go? I
could have knocked his head off and nobody knowed it."

"Yes," said Offitt, coolly. "And got hung for it."

"It would have been self-defence," said Bowersox. "He hit me first."

"Well, gentlemen," said Offitt, "that closes up Greenwood Lodge. We
can't meet in this grass any more. I don't suppose he knows any of us
by sight, or he'd have us up to-morrow."

"It was a piece of ---- nonsense, comin' out here, anyhow," growled
Bowersox, unwilling to be placated. "You haven't done a ---- thing but
lay around on the grass and eat peanuts and hear Bott chin."

"Brother Bott has delivered a splendid address on 'The Religion of
Nature,' and he couldn't have ha