ding him a rather sharp good-morning,
which was sullenly returned.

Then Burleson told him as pleasantly as he could that the land was
preserved, that he could not tolerate armed trespassing, and that the
keepers were charged to enforce the laws.

"It is better," he said, "to have a clear understanding at once. I think
the law governing private property is clearly set forth on the signs
along my boundary. This preserve is posted and patrolled; I have done
all I could to guarantee public rights; I have not made any application
to have the public road closed, and I am perfectly willing to keep it
open for public convenience. But it is not right for anybody to carry a
gun in these preserves; and if it continues I shall surely apply for
permission to close the road."

"I guess you think you'll do a lot o' things," observed the man,
stolidly.

"I think I will," returned Burleson, refusing to take offence at the
insolence.

The man tossed his gun to his shoulder and slouched towards the
boundary. Burleson watched him in silence until the fellow reached the
netted wire fence, then he called out.

"There is a turnstile to the left."

But the native deliberately drew a hatchet from his belt, opened the
wire netting with one heavy slash, and crawled through. Then wheeling in
his tracks outside, he cursed Burleson and shook his gun at him, and
finally slouched off towards Fox Cross-roads, leaving the master of the
forest a trifle white and quivering under the cutting curb of
self-control.

Presently his spasmodic grip on the riding-crop relaxed; he looked about
him with a long, quiet breath, flicked a burr from his riding-breeches,
and walked on, head lowered and jaw set. His horse followed at his
heels.

A mile beyond he met a keeper demolishing a deadfall along the creek,
and he summoned him with a good-humored greeting.

"Rolfe, we're headed for trouble, but it must not come--do you hear? I
won't have it if it can be avoided--and it must be avoided. These poor
devils that Grier hemmed in and warned off with his shot-gun patrol are
looking for that same sort of thing from me. Petty annoyance shall not
drive me into violence; I've made it plain to every keeper, every
forester, every man who takes wages from me. If I can stand insolence
from people I am sorry for, my employes can and must.... Who was that
man I met below here?"

"Abe Storm, sir."

"What was he doing--building deadfalls?"

"Seven, sir. He had thr