ce.

"Git inside, young 'uns. _Here they come!_"

Jimmy's heart skipped a beat. Down the river in the sunlight a
shantyboat was drifting. Jimmy could see the Harmon brothers crouching
on the deck, their faces livid with hate, sunlight glinting on their
arm-cradled shotguns.

The Harmon brothers were not in the least alike. Jed Harmon was tall and
gaunt, his right cheek puckered by a knife scar, his cruel, thin-lipped
mouth snagged by his teeth. Joe Harmon was small and stout, a little
round man with bushy eyebrows and the flabby face of a cottonmouth
snake.

"Go inside, Pigtail," Jimmy said, calmly. "I'm a-going to stay and
fight!"

* * * * *

Uncle Al grabbed Jimmy's arm and swung him around. "You heard what I
said, young fella. Now git!"

"I want to stay here and fight with you, Uncle Al," Jimmy said.

"Have you got a gun? Do you want to be blown apart, young fella?"

"I'm not scared, Uncle Al," Jimmy pleaded. "You might get wounded. I
know how to shoot straight, Uncle Al. If you get hurt I'll go right on
fighting!"

"No you won't, young fella! Take Pigtail inside. You hear me? You want
me to take you across my knee and beat the livin' stuffings out of you?"

Silence.

Deep in his uncle's face Jimmy saw an anger he couldn't buck. Grabbing
Pigtail Anne by the arm, he propelled her across the deck and into the
dismal front room of the shantyboat.

The instant he released her she glared at him and stamped her foot. "If
Uncle Al gets shot it'll be your fault," she said cruelly. Then
Pigtail's anger really flared up.

"The Harmons wouldn't dare shoot us 'cause we're children!"

For an instant brief as a dropped heartbeat Jimmy stared at his sister
with unconcealed admiration.

"You can be right smart when you've got nothing else on your mind,
Pigtail," he said. "If they kill me they'll hang sure as shooting!"

Jimmy was out in the sunlight again before Pigtail could make a grab for
him.

Out on the deck and running along the deck toward Uncle Al. He was still
running when the first blast came.

* * * * *

It didn't sound like a shotgun blast. The deck shook and a big swirl of
smoke floated straight toward Jimmy, half blinding him and blotting
Uncle Al from view.

When the smoke cleared Jimmy could see the Harmon shantyboat. It was
less than thirty feet away now, drifting straight past and rocking with
the tide like a topheavy flatbar