lood in me; but I kinder feel it risin', Hi, with the sap in
the trees. We'll chance it!"

Occasionally Hiram had stepped down to the pasture and squinted across
to the water-hole. The grass was not long enough yet to turn the cow
into the field, so he was obliged to make these special trips to the
pasture.

He had seen nothing of the Dickersons--to speak to, that is--since his
trouble with Pete. And, of a sudden, just before dinner one noon, Hiram
took a look at the pasture and beheld a figure seemingly working down in
the corner.

Hiram ran swiftly in that direction. Half-way there he saw that it was
Pete, and that he had deliberately cut out a panel of the fence and was
letting a pair of horses he had been plowing with, drink at the pool,
before he took them home to the Dickerson stable.

Hiram stopped running and recovered his breath before he reached the
lower corner of the pasture. Pete saw him coming, and grinned impudently
at him.

"What are you doing here, Dickerson?" demanded the young farmer,
indignantly.

"Well, if you wanter keep us out, you'd better keep up your fences
better," returned Pete. "I seen the wires down, and it's handy----"

"You cut those wires!" interrupted Hiram, angrily.

"You're another," drawled Pete, but grinning in a way to exasperate the
young farmer.

"I know you did so."

"Wal, if you know so much, what are you going to do about it?" demanded
the other. "I guess you'll find that these wires will snap 'bout as fast
as you can mend 'em. Now, you can put that in your pipe an' smoke it!"

"But I don't smoke." Hiram observed, growing calm immediately. There was
no use in giving this lout the advantage of showing anger with him.

"Mr. Smartie!" snarled Pete Dickerson. "Now, you see, there's somebody
just as smart as you be. These horses have drunk there, and they're
going to drink again."

"Is that your father yonder?" demanded Hiram, shortly.

"Yes, it is."

"Call him over here."

"Why, if he comes over here, he'll eat you alive!" cried Pete,
laughing. "You don't know my dad."

"I don't; but I want to," Hiram said, calmly. "That's why you'd better
call him over. I have got pretty well acquainted with you, and the rest
of your family can't be any worse, as I look at it. Call him over," and
the young farmer stepped nearer to the lout.

"You call him yourself!" cried Pete, beginning to back away, for he
remembered how he had been treated at his previous encounter with