nded a harsh
voice. The rivermen could make out the troops--three or four score of
them--standing rigid at attention. Reed, afoot now in favour of the
commanding officer, pushed forward.

"Who is in charge here?" inquired the officer crisply.

"I am," replied Orde, stepping forward.

"I wish to inquire, sir, if you have gone mad to counsel your men to
resist civil authority?"

"I have not resisted civil authority," replied Orde respectfully.

"It has been otherwise reported."

"The reports have been false. The sheriff of this county has arrested
about twenty of my men single-handed and without the slightest trouble."

"Mr. Morris," cried the officer sharply.

"Yes?" replied the sheriff.

"Is what this man says true?"

"It sure is. Never had so little fuss arrestin' rivermen before in my
life."

The officer's face turned a slow brick-red. For a moment he said
nothing, then exploded with the utmost violence.

"Then why the devil am I dragged up here with my men in the night?" he
cried. "Who's responsible for this insanity, anyway? Don't you know," he
roared at Reed, who that moment swung within his range of vision,
"that I have no standing in the presence of civil law? What do you mean
getting me up here to your miserable little backwoods squabbles?"

Reed started to say something, but was immediately cut short by the
irate captain.

"I've nothing to do with that; settle it in court. And what's more,
you'll have something yourself to settle with the State! About, face!
Forward, march!"

The men faded into the gray light as though dissolved by it.

A deep and respectful silence fell upon the men, which was broken by
Orde's solemn and dramatic declamation.

"The King of France and twice ten thousand men
Marched up the hill, and then marched down again,"

he recited; then burst into his deep roar of laughter.

"Now you see, boys," he said, digging his fists into his eyes, "if you'd
put up a row, what we'd have got into. No blue-coats in mine, thank you.
Well, push the grub pile, and then get at those logs. It's a case of
flood-water now."

But Reed, having recovered from his astonishment, had still his say.

"I tell ye, I'm not done with ye yet," he threatened, shaking his bony
forefinger in Orde's face. "I'll sue ye for damages, and I'll GIT 'em,
too."

"See here, you old mossback," said Orde, thrusting his bulky form to the
fore, "you sue just as soon as you want to. You can't ge