"Spies!" echoed Creed with a rising note of anger in his voice. "Who said I was a spy? What should I be spying on?" "Yo' friend Mr. Dan Haley might 'a' said you was a spy," suggested Andy's higher pitched tones. "As for what you'd be a-spyin' on you know best. We're all mighty peaceable, law-abidin' folks in the Turkey Tracks. I don't know of nothin' that we're apt to break the law about 'less'n it would be beatin' up and runnin' out a spy that----" The childish bravado of this speech evidently displeased Blatch, who wanted the thing done and over with. His heavier, grating tones broke in, "They's jest one thing to be said to you, Creed Bonbright. You've got to get out of the Turkey Tracks--and get quick. Air ye goin'?" "No!" Creed flung back at him. "When I take my orders from you it will be a mighty cold day. I came up here in the Turkey Tracks to do a good work among my own people. I'm going to stay here and do it in my own way. Is that you, Wade Turrentine? What have you got to say to me?" The second of the men who faced him stirred uneasily at the mention of his name. It rankled in the expectant bridegroom's heart that all he could complain of concerning Creed Bonbright was that Huldah had thrown herself in his way and forced a kiss upon him--not that Bonbright had been the amatory aggressor! "I say what Blatch says," growled Wade as though the words stuck in his throat. More and more the whole thing was like a nightmare to Creed; he felt as though with sufficient effort he might throw it off and wake. The four men hung at the path-side eyeing him, motionless if he were still, moving only if he stirred. Even this scarcely gave him a complete understanding of the gravity of his situation. "Well," he said finally, "I'm going on home. If any of you boys has anything to say to me, to-morrow or any day after--you know where to find me." He made as though to pass; but Blatch Turrentine stepped swiftly to the middle of the pathway and stood breathing a little short. "No, by God, we don't!" he panted. "Ef we let you to go this night--we don't know whar we'll ever find you again. Mebbe you've got yo' budget made up--on yo' way to yo' friend Mr. Dan Haley right now. _Ye don't go from here_!" Instinctively Creed fell back a step. It was out at last--this was neither more nor less than a waylaying. Did they mean to kill him? Blatch Turrentine had crouched where he stood, and even as the question went through the victim's mind, he launched himself with that sudden frightful quickness bodily upon Creed. It would seem that the slighter man must be borne down by the onset. But Bonbright gathered himself, his arms shot out and gripped his assailant midway. Struggling, panting, gasping, stamping, they wrenched and swayed, the three who watched them holding aloof. Then with a sheer effort of strength Creed tore the heavier man from his footing and lifted him clear of the ground.