THE WAY OF THE BIG WOODS
Three horsemen were seen approaching as rapidly as the uneven going would permit. Two of the trio were holding their rifles under their arms at a position indicating readiness for instant action.
The Overlanders were observing them narrowly, and especially Joe Shafto, who, having seen them first, and being suspicious of the newcomers, had run for her rifle and thrown herself down behind a log, commanding Henry to follow. The only other member of the Overland Riders who had a weapon handy was Lieutenant Wingate, who wore the heavy service revolver that he had carried while a fighting air pilot in France.
Hippy's hand was close to the butt of his revolver, but he made no effort to draw it, even though he believed that he and his party were about to have trouble.
"Keep clear, girls, and give me room," he warned. "May have to shoot."
As the three strangers, one leading the way, reached the edge of the camp, the two rear riders threw up their rifles and covered the Overland party with them.
"Put up yer hands!" came the command, sharp and incisive.
"Put up your own," flung back Lieutenant Wingate, and the newcomers found themselves facing his weapon. "Tag! You're it. What is this, anyway?"
"Drop that aire gun or I'll let ye have a hunk of lead!" threatened one of the strangers.
"No you won't. You haven't the nerve. I'll tell you what I will do. I will put my revolver back in its holster provided you put down your own weapons. If you make a move to shoot I will draw and wing you before you can pull a trigger. If you don't believe me, try it. At the same time, old tops, I would advise you that, though you don't know it, you are already covered by a repeating rifle, and further, that should you make a false move, the rifle is likely to go off." With that Hippy Wingate thrust his revolver into its holster. "Your move. What's the joke?" he demanded, casting a quick glance at the log behind which the forest woman was hiding, and observing that her rifle barrel protruded over the log ever so little, though the woman herself was not visible.
The men did not lower their weapons, but the rider in advance rode right into the camp.
"You carrying guns? I mean game guns—rifles?" questioned the man in a tone of severity.
"Yes."
"Shot anything?"
"Not yet, but I came near shooting two men just now," answered Hippy, scowling as savagely as he knew how.
"Let me see 'em!"
"There's one of them. Look at it! On that log yonder," he added, pointing to Joe Shafto's rifle. "Want to see the rest of them?"
"I reckon that's enough," answered the stranger. "I've heard that ye folks was a tough bunch, and up here for a big killing. I'm the game warden. I don't suppose ye even went to the trouble to git a license to hunt in this state. Folks like you think they can git away with most anything, but ye can't do it in these parts."
"Game warden, eh? You guessed wrong, old Santa Claus. I have a license. We all have licenses and we propose to do some hunting when the season opens, though that is not the main purpose of our journey up here."
"Show me."
Hippy handed his license to the warden, which that officer read with frowning attention. Handing it back he demanded to see the licenses of the others, which Lieutenant Wingate had had the foresight to procure before the Overland Riders came west.
"Reckon you're all right so far as licenses is concarned, but ye can't carry guns up here till the season—the game season's open," said the game warden, handing back the licenses.
"It's always an open season for the kind of game we are going to hunt," Hippy informed him.
"Eh? What kind's that?"
"Your kind," retorted Hippy sharply.
"That's all I've got to do with ye. I'd make ye give up the guns, but these gents have something to say to you folks. They'll take care of yer rifles and such."
The game warden backed his horse away. His two companions, taking their cue from his move, rode to the fore.
Hippy surveyed them narrowly.
"Here comes the rub," Miss Briggs confided to Grace.
"We're deputy sheriffs," announced one.
"Charmed, I'm sure," greeted Hippy, bowing with much dignity. "Making early calls seems to be the way of the Big Woods. What do you want? Let me see. So far to-day we have had two wardens and two deputy sheriffs. Speak your piece, but remember that you are covered. It's just as well while talking to me to keep your muzzles pointed towards the ground."
"Are ye the fellows that burned up part of Section Forty-three?" asked the deputy.
"No. The fire did that. We are the fellows that put out the fire, or there would be nothing left of a good part of that section except blackened stumps and dead tree toads."
"Seeing as ye admit it, that's all right."
Hippy nodded. Grace and Elfreda had stepped up, just to the rear of Hippy, that they might miss nothing of what was being said. The second deputy kept a watchful eye on them, presumably to see that they played no tricks on his companion.
"The owner of that section, Hi Dusenbery, reckons as ye've got to pay fer the loss of the timber ye burned, and I'm here, fer one thing, to serve the papers on ye in the suit. Do ye accept service?"
Hippy reached for the papers that the deputy held out, and, without looking at them, tore them and dropped the fragments on the ground.
"You shouldn't have done that," rebuked Miss Briggs. "Grace, help me gather up the pieces. The idea!"
"Anything else?" demanded Lieutenant Wingate. "I have had about enough of this nonsense."
"I reckon there is something else. Ye're charged with bein' dangerous characters. Information has been laid against ye by one William Tatem, otherwise known as Peg Tatem, accusin' some person unknown, but belongin' to this party, of shootin' him through the leg."
"It was a wooden leg, and the shots were not fired by any person or persons in this party. We do not know who fired them," interrupted Hippy.
The deputy sheriffs grinned.
"Ye are further charged with causin' certain wild animals, to wit, a bear and a big ugly dog, to attack Peg Tatem and his men and do 'em injury, to wit, bites and scratches, not to speak of a bad scare."
"Well? There must be something more," urged Hippy. "What do you want me to do?"
"Peg opined that if ye would settle with him for the damages to his leg, and pay him for the scare ye give him, and settle with his jacks for what ye did to them, he might be willin' to let ye off."
Grace said something to Elfreda under her breath and Elfreda nodded. Both saw that Lieutenant Wingate's good nature was slipping from him, that his temper was rising.
"Don't do anything rash, Hippy," urged Grace in a low tone.
"If I refuse, what then?" he demanded belligerently, addressing the man.
"That's up to ye."
"I refuse to pay one copper cent!" roared Hippy. "Go tell that timber-legged friend of yours that if he bothers us again he will either get a bullet through his real leg or land in jail or both. Put that in your pipe and smoke it! I don't believe you are deputies at all."
"Then yer under arrest. The whole pack of ye is under arrest!" shouted the deputy, suddenly throwing up his rifle.
Bang!
A bullet whizzed past the deputy's head, fired from the ready rifle of Joe Shafto, who, with finger on the trigger, was glaring through her big horn-rimmed spectacles, alert for a suggestive move on the part of either of the three men, which would be the signal for another shot from her rifle.