Dan made no reply in words. He put his hand into his pocket and looked at his father; whereupon the latter arose and glanced into the wagon. It was empty. “Whar’s the meat?” he demanded, angrily. “It’s done sold,” was the reply. For a moment Godfrey acted as if he were about to go off into an awful passion. He spread out his feet, clenched both his hands and began shaking them in the air. Then he jumped up, knocked his heels together, and having thus loosened his joints, was ready for action. Dan saw that the storm was coming, and made all haste to put himself out of the way of its fury, first by jumping out of the wagon on the opposite side, so that he would have a fair chance to run if he found it necessary, and second by trying to appease his father. “Hain’t that the way to get rich, pop,--by takin’ money every chance ye get?” said he. “I got it an’ I saved it, too. Look a yer,” he added, pulling some bills out of his pocket, and extending them across the wagon toward his father. Godfrey was mollified at once. The sight of money always made him good-natured, especially if he saw a prospect of handling it himself. “How much ye got thar?” he asked, in a very different tone of voice. “Three dollars an’ a half,” replied Dan. “Silas Jones done offered it to me fur my beef, an’ when I axed him whar was the money, he counted it right down. Mebbe I could lend ye another dollar, pop, if ye’ll promise to pay it back.” Godfrey had in some way collected his wandering wits by this time. He reviewed the situation hastily while Dan was speaking, and greatly to the surprise of the boy, who had never known him to refuse money before, replied: “No, Dannie, the money is yourn, an’ I wont take it from ye. I’ll have plenty of my own in a week or two--jest as soon as we find that thar bar’l. But, Dannie, I had got my mind all made up fur somethin’ nice, an’ I can’t no ways do without some fresh meat of some kind fur supper; so if ye’ll take yer rifle an’ go right out an’ shoot some squirrels, I’ll say no more about yer sellin’ the meat. I’ll unhitch the critter, too.” Dan, glad to be let off so easily, and wondering greatly at this unusual display of forbearance on the part of his father, readily agreed to this proposal. But he didn’t quite like the look of things. He had a suspicion that this was simply a ruse on the part of his father, and that when he came out from behind the wagon and entered the cabin to get his rifle, Godfrey would seize him and bring the rawhide into play. Experience had taught him that his father’s word was not always to be depended on, so he was very cautious in his movements. He accompanied the wagon to the corn-crib, waited until his father began to unharness the mule, and then darted into the cabin, secured his rifle and ammunition, and quickly put a ten rail fence between him and his sire. Then he began to breathe easier.