At the sound of the whistle the crowd paused and at the sight of the six determined looking men they came to a full halt. Big Ben’s face was a puzzle as he saw the turn things had taken.
“What—what—do you mean?” he stammered.
“We mean to prevent murder,” Bob answered sternly. “Our men, except these six, have only their axes with which to fight, and you know what that would mean in case your men got to them. As I said before, we do not want trouble, but if any of your men come any nearer I’m afraid those rifles will have something to say about it. Remember you are on our land.”
CHAPTER XII.
BIG BEN DECIDES THAT HE HAD BETTER NOT.
For a moment Big Ben paused as if undecided what to say, and before he could come to a decision the sound of sleigh bells was heard, and, glancing quickly around, the boys were overjoyed to see their father just turning into the clearing in a light cutter drawn by a spirited bay. Mr. Golden was driving and by his side sat Sheriff Switzer. As Big Ben saw the two men he started toward his crew, but, evidently changing his mind, he stopped after taking a few steps, and turned back.
“What’s all the rumpus here?” Mr. Golden cried as he handed the reins to the sheriff and sprang from the sleigh. “Hello Ben,” he added, as though he had just noticed the man. “What seems to be the main difficulty?”
“Your men have been cuttin’ on my land, that’s what’s the mater,” the man growled.
“You don’t mean it,” Mr. Golden said, and turning to Tom he asked:
“How about it, Tom? That’s a pretty serious accusation,” he said gravely, but as he spoke the boys caught sight of a well known twinkle in their father’s eye which told them that he was not blaming them for what had been done.
“Sure and if he owns thot strip,” and Tom waved his hand in the direction of the disputed tract, “we’re guilty all right.”