"The old gun went back on me that time—she sure did, Bob," Billet said. "I would ha' got that critter, else. Hullo! what's the matter?"
For the farmer reached out a ham-like hand and seized the wiry Lycurgus by the shoulder, and shook him.
"Hey! what you doin'?" the smaller man repeated.
"I've a mind to shake the liver-lights out'n you, Lycurgus Billet!" declared the farmer. "To send little Sissy out to be eagle bait fer ye! I—I—That's the worst I ever heard of!"
"Say!" sputtered Lycurgus. "What d'ye mean? I 'spected ter shoot the critter, didn't I?"
"But ye didn't."
"Just the same she warn't hurt. Air you, Sue?" demanded the little girl's father.
Sue shook her head. She hadn't got over her scare, however. "My!" she confessed, "I thought he was a-goin' to grab me—I sure did! And he had sech a wicked eye."
"You hear that?" demanded old Bob Buckham, fiercely, and Lycurgus shrank away from the indignant farmer as though he expected to feel the heavy hand again—and to sterner purpose this time.
"You ain't no business with a young'un like Sissy—you ornery pup!" growled the old man in the culprit's ear. "I wish she was mine. You ain't fitten to own little Sissy."