“Yes, you’re a felon!” added Mr. Lee with a sneer.
“I’d rather be an innocent prisoner than a coward!” cried Dan, remembering how the storekeeper whined when the bull had him up a tree.
“Who’s a coward?”
“You are. You were afraid to stay up the tree alone when I wanted to go after help to catch the bull.”
“What’s that?” asked Sam Porter, one of the men in the store. “I didn’t hear the story that way. Tell us about it, Dan.”
Hardly knowing why he did so, Dan related the story, showing the cowardice of the storekeeper.
“Ha! Ha! Ho! Ho!” laughed Sam. “That’s a good one on you, Lee. Treed by a bull, and dasn’t stick your foot down! Ha! Ho! That’s prutty good!”
The rest of the crowd joined in the laugh at the discomfited Mr. Lee, who angrily retired to his private office to make out bills. Dan had gotten the best of him, and, somehow the sympathy of the crowd, which had been rather against the boy, now turned his way.
Suddenly the door leading to the office of the Squire opened, and Mr. Perkfell announced:
“Let the prisoner enter. I will now hold court.”