coon-skin overcoat, aiming
a double-barreled shot-gun, beside him two other farmers with rifles
under their arms. It seemed to Father that he was in a wild Western
melodrama, and he helplessly muttered, "Gosh! Can you beat it?"

The man with the leveled shot-gun drawled, "I'm the deputy sheriff for
this locality and I'll give you dirty bums just five minutes to pick up
your duffle and git out, and keep a-going. I guess we don't need you
around here. You been robbing every hen-roost for ten miles. Now step
lively, and no funny business."

"Stung!" muttered Crook McKusick, hopelessly. "Got us."

Suddenly a downy figure--who might herself have come from a large,
peaceful human hen-roost--fluttered straight at the muzzle of the
sheriff's shot-gun. It was Mother.

"Hands up, I told juh!" stormed the sheriff, amazedly.

"Oh, look _out_, Mother!" wailed Father, rushing after her, his own
hands going down to his sides in his agitation.

"Look out, aunty!" echoed Crook McKusick. "That's a bad actor, that
guy."

But Mother continued straight at the gun, snapping: "Don't point that
dratted thing at me. You bother me."

The sheriff wavered. The gun dropped. "Who are you?" he demanded.

"Never you mind who I am, young man. I'm responsible for these boys,
though. And they promised me they wouldn't do no more stealing. They're
going to work for what they get. And they got a right here on this land.
They got permission. That's more than you got, I venture, with your
nasty guns and all, coming around here-- Have you got a warrant?"

"No, I ain't, but you--"

"Then you just step yourself away, young man! Coming here, fairly
shaking a body's nerves. I vow, you almost scare me, carrying on-- Put
down that dratted gun, I told you. You'll either go, Mr. Deputy Monkey,
or I'll see your boss, and we'll see what we'll see."

With which Mother--who was rapidly becoming almost impolite in her
indignation over this uninvited visit from a person whom she couldn't
find it in her heart to like--seized the muzzle of the gun, pushed it
down, and stood glowering at the sheriff, her arms akimbo.

"Well, ma'am, I don't know who you are, but if you got any idee that
this bunch of cut-throats is likely to turn into any W. C. T. U.
pink-tea party--"

"Now none of your nonsense and impudence and sneering, young man, and be
off with you, or I'll see somebody that'll have something to say to you.
Illegal goings-on, that's what they are; no warr