"Did he call me a--say!" and he pushed Crosby aside. "I'd have you to understand that I'm a minister of the gospel--I am the Reverend James Bracken, of--" A roar of laughter greeted his attempt to explain; and there were a few remarks so uncomplimentary that the man of cloth sank back in sheer hopelessness. "Well, I'll give them reason to think that I'm something of a desperado," grated the Reverend "Jimmy," squaring his shoulders. "If they attempt to put foot inside my uncle's house I'll--I'll smash a few heads." "Bravo!" cried Mrs. Crosby. She was his cousin, and up to that time had had small regard for her mild-mannered relative. "He can preach the funeral!" shouted Ike Smalley. By this time there were a dozen men on the bank below. "I give you fair warning," cried Anderson Crow impressively. "We're goin' to surround the house, an' we'll take that rascal if we have to shoot the boards into sawdust!" "But what has he done, except to get married?" called Crosby as the posse began to spread out. "Do you s'pose I'm fool enough to tell you if you don't know?" said Anderson Crow. "Just as like as not you'd be claimin' the thousand dollars reward if you knowed it had been offered! Spread out, boys, an' we'll show 'em dern quick!" There was dead silence inside the house for a full minute. Every eye was wide and every mouth was open in surprise and consternation. "A thousand dollars reward!" gasped Jack Barnes. "Then, good Lord, I _must_ have done something!" "What _have_ you been doing, Jack Barnes?" cried his bride, aghast. "I must have robbed a train," said he dejectedly. "Well, this is serious, after all," said Crosby. "It's not an eloper they're after, but a desperado." "A kidnaper, perhaps," suggested his wife. "What are we to do?" demanded Jack Barnes. "First, old man, what have you actually done?" asked the Reverend "Jimmy." "Nothing that's worth a thousand dollars, I'm dead sure," said Barnes positively. "By George, Marjory, this is a nice mess I've led you into!" "It's all right, Jack; I'm happier than I ever was before in my life. We ran away to get married, and I'll go to jail with you if they'll take me." "This is no time for kissing," objected Crosby sourly. "We must find out what it all means. Leave it to me." It was getting dark in the room, and the shadows were heavy on the hills. While the remaining members of the besieged party sat silent and depressed upon the casks and boxes, Crosby stood at the window calling to the enemy. "Is he ready to surrender?" thundered Anderson Crow from the shadows. Then followed a brief and entirely unsatisfactory dialogue between the two spokesmen. Anderson Crow was firm in his decision that the fugitive did not have to be told what he had done; and George Crosby was equally insistent that he had to be told before he could decide whether he was guilty or innocent. "We'll starve him out!" said Anderson Crow.