fiery-tempered old fellow. "But I will
settle even with you yet. Just remember that note of Lowe's, will you?
It's apt to be called to your attention pretty soon in a way you won't
like, I reckon, and you won't get a second's more time on it, either.
You will find it ain't so funny to set up against _me_ in this
neighborhood!"

The irate man stormed out of the house, still shaking his fist
threateningly, and Mr. Hartman, in a very disturbed state of mind,
returned to his breakfast.

CHAPTER XIII

PEACE GETS EVEN

"Peace, come here, I want to talk with you," called Mr. Hartman, leaning
over the fence and beckoning to the child at work in her melon patch,
measuring the mottled green fruit thickly dotted through the vines.

"It's grown two inches since I measured it last," said the brown-eyed
gardener to herself, leaving her task to see what the man wanted. "Here
I am."

"Do you know what kind of a mess you have got me into now?"

Peace looked her surprise, and answered saucily, "You don't fool me any
more, my friend. You've teased me so often that it is an old story now.
I know just what to 'xpect when I meet you."

At any other time he would have been delighted with this reply, but
under the circumstances--for he was really much disturbed over her
latest prank--her jaunty, don't-care air nettled him, and he said
sharply, "_This_ is no joking matter, Miss Greenfield, I can tell you
that! Why did you tie red rags all over my pasture fence?"

"So's to keep the deacon's bull busy. We couldn't get those berries any
other way."

"Well, I guess you succeeded. He broke one horn off and pretty near
skinned himself, I judge. The only wonder is that he didn't tear the
fence down and get loose."

"As long as he didn't, I shouldn't care about his horns," answered Peace
with provoking indifference. "The deacon said I could have all the
berries I could get, and he didn't say how I was to get them, either. I
thought and thought, and I couldn't see any way out but the red flags.
It worked beau--ti--fully. We got two buckets chock-full!"

"Yes," groaned Mr. Hartman; "and got old Skinner red hot at me! I signed
a note a year or two ago for a friend of mine, expecting by this time
that he would be on his feet and able to take care of it, but he isn't,
and I've got to settle. Where the money is coming from is more than I
can tell. It took all my ready cash to build that new barn, and old
Skinner is so blamed mad that