nd Bob, looking over
his shoulder to see what was the matter, caught a momentary glimpse of a
tawny body as it rose in the air, and, turning a complete somersault,
landed on the ground all in a heap. One of the dogs, in his eagerness to
do something grand, had approached a little too close to the mule's
heels--an impertinence which that sagacious quadruped promptly resented
by kicking out with both hind feet and knocking his would-be assailant
into a cocked hat. The dog was not killed, but he was terribly
demoralized, and his howls of anguish did much to dampen the ardor of
his companions, who quickly withdrew to a more respectful distance.

Bob rode straight up to the house, but the squatter never looked at him,
nor did the deserter stop his work. He drew rein in front of the porch,
swung himself out of the saddle as quick as a flash, and, paying no
attention to the dogs, which bayed him at a distance, but were too
cowardly to assault him, he walked up to the deserter and tapped him on
the shoulder.

"Bryant, I want you," said he.

The deserter, whose back was turned toward Bob, wheeled on the instant,
revealing a face that was as white as a sheet. Bob backed around a
little, so that he could keep one eye on Bryant while he watched the
squatter with the other, and saw the man spring to his feet in the
greatest astonishment, his pipe dropping from his mouth as he arose.

"You didn't expect to see me again so soon, did you?" said Bob,
addressing himself to nobody in particular.

"Corporal Owens!" gasped the deserter, retreating a step or two, at the
same time grasping his axe firmly in both hands and lifting it over his
head. "Keep away from me; if you come a step nearer I'll--"

"Drop it!" commanded Bob sternly; and Bryant obeyed, for he saw the
muzzle of a cocked revolver looking him squarely in the face.

All this happened in less time than we have taken to tell it, but
meanwhile the squatter had not been idle. Quickly recovering from his
amazement, he darted into the cabin, and just as Bryant dropped the
threatening axe he appeared upon the porch with his rifle in his hand.
Cocking it as he drew it to his face, he covered Bob's head with the
weapon, and said, in a voice that trembled with rage and excitement,

"Look a here, young fellow, that's a game two can play at. Lower your
shootin'-iron or I'll make daylight shine through you."

"Plump him over, Peasley!" cried Bryant, "plump him over! You are not
goi