not wish her to be a witness of his
usual reaction. She departed, but whether or not she took Phil's
advice, he did not know.

About eleven o'clock, Sol staggered in, helpless, but good-natured as
usual. The heat of the smithy soon did its work and the big fellow
curled himself up in a corner, among some empty sacks, and dropped off
to sleep.

It was the awakening that Phil dreaded, but risky as he knew it
would be, he determined to give Sol a chance and leave him to wake
up, without sending out to inform Royce Pederstone, who was home
for a week to participate in the Christmas festivities, and the
Mayor,--whose combined duty it was to see that Sol was properly
secured against doing anyone any bodily injury.

But Phil's good intentions were not allowed to fructify.

Brenchfield and Royce Pederstone rode into the yard together, as if
they had been aware of every move of Sol's.

They ordered Phil to lock the front door and come out by the back way.
Phil pleaded Sol's cause for a little, but only got called a
sentimental fool for his kindly feelings; and he had no recourse but
to obey instructions, for Brenchfield and Royce Pederstone had almost
unlimited power in regard to Sol's permanent freedom or confinement.

Brenchfield pitched some chunks of coal at Sol through the broken
window. Sol woke with a start, cursed in a mixture of Swedish and
English, then, with that terrible madness upon him--which Phil had
witnessed only once before but would never forget,--he sprang for the
back door, as Phil got round the gable-end of the smithy.

Sol wrestled for a few seconds with the back door and finally tore it
completely from its hinges. He darted out into the yard, hurling the
broken woodwork full at Brenchfield as the latter was swinging his
lariat. Hanson followed his missile and, for a short space, it looked
as if the Mayor's last moment had arrived. But numbers counted again
and, fortunately for the big Swede, he could not be in two places at
once. Royce Pederstone's rope landed deftly over his head and brought
him to earth gasping for breath, half strangled.

Brenchfield recovered. His rope whirled in the air and tightened over
Sol's uptilted legs. The rest was easy. Shortly afterwards, Hanson,
foaming at the mouth and shouting at the pitch of his voice, was
trussed securely to the stanchions supporting one of the barns.

The Mayor and Royce Pederstone were still inside the barn, and Phil
was standing in the ya