addle and sped out to warn
him.

At a ford on the way I ran into the gang, who had stopped to water
their horses.

As I galloped past, one of them yelled: "There's Cody's kid now on his
way to warn his father. Stop, you, and tell us where your old man is."

A pistol shot, to terrify me into obedience, accompanied the command. I
may have been terrified, but it was not into obedience. I got out of
there like a shot, and though they rode hard on my trail my pony was
too fast for them. My warning was in time.

We got father as quickly as we could to Lawrence, which was an
abolition stronghold, and where he was safe for the time being. He
gradually got back a part of his strength, enough of it at any rate to
enable him to take part in the repulse of a raid of Missourians who
came over to burn Lawrence and lynch the Abolitionists. They were
driven back across the Missouri River by the Lawrence men, who trapped
them into an ambush and so frightened them that for the present they
rode on their raids no more.

When father returned to Salt Creek Valley the persecutions began again.
The gangsters drove off all our stock and killed all our pigs and even
the chickens. One night Judge Sharpe, a disreputable old alcoholic who
had been elected a justice of the peace, came to the house and demanded
a meal. Mother, trembling for the safety of her husband, who lay sick
upstairs, hastened to get it for him. As the old scoundrel sat waiting
he caught sight of me.

"Look yere, kid," he shouted, "ye see this knife?"

He drew a long, wicked bowie. "Well, I'm going to sharpen that to
finish up the job that Charlie Dunn began the other day." And scowling
horribly at me he began whetting the knife on a stone he picked up from
the table.

Now, I knew something about a gun, and there was a gun handy. It was
upstairs, and I lost no time in getting it. Sitting on the stairs I
cocked it and held it across my knees. I am sure that I should have
shot him had he attempted to come up those stairs.

He didn't test my shooting ability, however. He got even with me by
taking my beloved pony, Prince, when he left. Mother pleaded with him
to leave it, for it was the only animal we had, but she might as well
have pleaded with a wildcat.

We had now been reduced to utter destitution. Our only food was what
rabbits and birds I could trap and catch with the help of our faithful
old dog Turk, and the sod corn which we grated into flour. Father could
b