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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
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