He had hardly taken a favorable place to observe the approach of the brigands, when he discovered a couple of men approaching from the town, mounted and armed. They were hard-looking ruffians, and the sergeant did not like the appearance of them. He had but a moment to consider, and he did his thinking on the double-quick. The guerillas could not be aware that a squadron of United States cavalry had just arrived at Greeltop. If they had known this fact they would not have come; and if informed of it now, they would take to their heels, and make the dust fly till they reached a safe retreat. The two mounted men coming from the village looked ugly and reckless enough to be brigands; and Life promptly concluded that they had heard of the approach of the marauders, and were going out to warn them of the presence of the troops in the place. Each of them carried an old flintlock gun, which might have seen service in the time of Daniel Boone, and had a package strapped on behind his saddle. Possibly they belonged to the band of mounted men, and were going out to join them with the important news they had obtained. "Where are you uns bound?" demanded Knox, breaking out of his covert, and planting himself in the road in front of them. The Kentuckian was as prudent as he was brave; but if these brigands were permitted to proceed, the business of the Riverlawn Cavalry would be ended in this immediate locality for the present. The enemy before him were two to his one; but he did not appear to take this fact into consideration. "Who are you?" shouted the foremost of the pair in a ferocious tone, as though he expected to frighten the stalwart inquirer, and with a volley of oaths which startled the Kentuckian, who, maugre his varied experience, was a high-toned man morally, and never used any profane expletives. "I am in command of this road jest now; and no one, not even Gov'nor McGoffin hisself, could pass out the way you uns is go'n'," replied Life. "I reckon we uns is gwine out," replied the spokesman of the pair. "I reckon not," added the sergeant, as he seized the bridle of the fellow's Rosinante, whisked him around, pointing him to the village, and giving him a slap to set him going. If the brigand had any bad blood in his veins, this decided action was sufficient to make it boil; and he brought up his old flintlock, and began to point it at the "commander of that road just then," and would no doubt have put some of the contents of the rusty barrel through his head or chest, if Life had waited for him to do so. He did not; and he did not even take the trouble to unsling the loaded carbine at his back, but, reaching up, seized the brigand by the throat, and dragged him from his horse, planting him very solidly on the ground.