"What!" roared the colonel "what's that?"
"It's the truth," asserted Bart. "I never knew the cannon was loaded with a ball."
"Do you know who loaded it?"
Bart was silent.
"You won't tell? We'll see if a jury can't make you, then!" fumed the colonel. "Aha! it's serious now, is it? Not so much fun breaking up my home and breaking up my speech at the grove to-day, hey?"
Bart saw very plainly that what rankled most with his volcanic visitor was the blow to his pride he had suffered that afternoon at the grove.
"You put me in a nice fix, didn't you?" cried the colonel—"laughing stock of the community! Young man, you're on the downward road, fast. You're all of a brood. Your mother—"
Bart started forward with a dangerous sparkle in his eye.
"Colonel Harrington," he said decisively, "my mother has nothing to do with this affair."
"She has!" vociferated the magnate, "or rather, her teachings. You're full of infernal pride and presumption, the whole kit of you!"