"'Stop, boy!' shouted the man."
"What do you want of me?" demanded Artie, with his right hand on the handle of his revolver.
"I want them handbills you just got printed," replied the spokesman. "We ain't go'n' to have no Abolition troops enlisted round here. And that ain't all nuther; we're gwine to clean out that Major Lyon that sent you over here."
"Hand over the papers and we won't hurt you," added another of the trio.
"I shall not give them up!" replied Artie as decidedly as though he had the new company of cavalry behind him. "Get out of the road, or I will ride over you!"
"You won't give em' up, won't yer?" returned the man in the middle, as he brought his old gun to his shoulder.
"No!" yelled the messenger, as he fired his revolver at the spokesman.
At the same moment he drove his heels into the flanks of his spirited steed, giving him the rein as he did so. The horse darted ahead like a shot from a gun, and choosing his way between the men, he knocked two of them over, and galloped on his way. The sudden movement of the animal had prevented the men from bringing their guns to bear upon him. The man on his feet fired, and the rider heard a ball whistle near him. In a minute he was out of the range of such weapons, and reached Riverlawn in season for supper.
He delivered the bills to the lieutenant, and told his story. The next morning the early risers saw these placards posted all over Barcreek village, and along the roads for five miles in all directions.