Frank smiled at Willy with a nod, as much as to say, "You see,—just what Tim told us!"
"Ain't your name Mr. Billy Johnson?"
"Yes; that's my name."
"You are the man we're looking for. March down that road. But don't run,—if you do, we'll shoot you!"
As the boys seemed perfectly serious and the muzzles of both guns were pointing directly at him, the man began to think that they were in earnest. But he could hardly credit his senses. A suspicion flashed into his mind.
"Look here, boys," he said, rather angrily, "I don't want any of your foolin' with me. I'm too old to play with children. If you all don't go 'long home and stop giving me impudence, I'll slap you over!" He started angrily toward Frank. As he did so, Frank brought the gun to his shoulder.
"Stand back!" he said, looking along the barrel, right into the man's eyes. "If you move a step, I'll blow your head off!"
The soldier's jaw fell. He stopped and threw up his arm before his eyes.
"Hold on!" he called, "don't shoot! Boys, ain't you got better sense 'n that?"
"March on down that road. Willy, you get the horse," said Frank, decidedly.