As the word left his lips he jumped up from the bench and made a furious rush toward his son, but did not succeed in laying hands upon him. The place where Dan was standing became suddenly vacant, and a moment afterward a very scared face looked at Godfrey between the rails of the fence that surrounded the cabin. “Yes, I will,” repeated Dan, who felt comparatively safe now. “I’ll go straight to the gen’ral an’ tell him what ye’re up to, an’ then what’ll become of yer bar’l with the eighty thousand into it?” “An’ what’ll become of yer shiny hats an’ boots, an’ yer circus hosses, an’ yer guns that break in two in the middle?” retorted Godfrey, as soon as his rage would allow him to speak. “I don’t care,” replied Dan, “I want my six dollars and six bits fust; an’ if I don’t get ’em, I’ll knock all yer ’rangements higher nor the moon. I will, I don’t care if I don’t sleep in the house fur a month arter it.” “Ye’ll never sleep in my house again if ye do that,” said Godfrey. “But, Dannie, thar ain’t no use in me an’ you fightin’ over these few greenbacks, when thar’s eighty thousand dollars in gold and silver to be had fur the diggin’.” “I don’t want to fight nuther, but I want my money,” said Dan. “Now, Dannie, be a good boy an’ let yer poor ole pop take keer on it fur ye.” “No, I won’t.” “Kase I’m the oldest an’ know the most, ye know, an’ it’s the properest thing to do.” But Dan only shook his head decidedly, and retreated as his father approached the fence. Godfrey continued to argue the matter, but he could make no impression upon Dan, whose only reply was, “Give me my money;” and his father was finally forced to the conclusion that he must either do it, or have all his hopes of possessing that bar’l of gold blasted. He was well enough acquainted with Dan to know that he never made idle threats, and he saw that he must compromise in some way, and that too, if possible, without any loss to his dignity. “Now, Dannie,” said he, “I hope ye see that yer pop is a heap smarter nor ye be, don’t yer?” “Give me them six dollars an’ six bits,” replied Dan. “No, ye can’t have ’em--bar’l or no bar’l, that’s flat--till ye tell me whar ye got ’em. I’m yer pop, an’ it’s my bounden duty to know how ye come by ’em.” Dan hesitated. If he complied with his father’s demand, he might whistle for the other five dollars which Don Gordon still owed David--or, rather, which he _would_ owe him as soon as the pointer was field-broken. If he refused to comply, he would lose six dollars and seventy-five cents, and that was a small fortune to him. No matter what he decided to do, he had a fine prospect of losing money, unless-- “Yes, pop,” he replied suddenly, trying hard to conceal the excitement occasioned by a lucky thought that just then occurred to him, “I know yer a heap smarter nor I be, an’ I’ll be a good son to ye, an’ never try to fool ye no more.”