Again came the call, more peremptory than before.
“That’s the ‘Black Swede,’ hadn’t I better go?” asked Jennie, in a whisper.
“No. He was one of the five the boys fired for trading in Bradley,” returned her father. “Go on with your suppers, gents.”
“Come out here, you Spider, or I’ll put another hump on your back!” roared the voice.
At the brutal words Phil and Ted sprang from their chairs with one accord and rushed into the store.
“Stop ’em! Stop ’em! I’ll go, Pap!” pleaded the girl. “They’ll git hurted.”
But though the young homesteaders heard her words, they paid no heed to them, but when they caught a glimpse of the Black Swede, they halted.
More than six feet tall, his feet encased in spiked boots, a slouch hat pulled down over his villainous face, the man presented an awesome appearance.
“What do you want? I called the Spider,” he snarled.
Two companions, no more prepossessing than the other, were with the Swede, and they grinned and chuckled as they beheld the two slender boys facing the giant.