"They're shore sumpin's fixed, fer the young feller's lawyer hain't soopeenied a derned witness." "Tu-lah!" said Bijy. "Is that a fack?" "Shore 's shootin', they say. He's to be got off somehow, I s'pose." "Tu-laws-a-massy!" broke out Bijy; and turning to his fellow-loafers he said, "That'll rile Jake purty consid'able, now won't it?" It did stir up Jake when he heard of it. He promptly set to work to form a company to descend at once on Moscow and take the case out of the hands of the dodrotted lawyers. He could not at so late an hour get together more than twenty or twenty-five men from Broad Run and the regions within warning distance. Some of these joined him only because they could not endure to have anything very exciting take place in their absence: it would entail the necessity of their hearing for the rest of their lives the account given of the affair by the participators, who would always value themselves on it. Some of the larger boys, whose aid had been rejected in the previous excursion because they were not accounted mature enough for such public responsibilities, were now admitted: the company would be small, and a boy is better than nobody in a pinch. S'manthy's oldest son, a tow-headed fellow of fifteen, was one of these, and he was sent over the hill to warn Zeke Tucker, who was still at Britton's, a mile away from the borders of what was distinctively called "the Run Neighborhood." The September twilight was already fading when the lad presented himself in front of Zeke Tucker, who sat perched on top of a rail fence for rest and observation after his day's work. Mrs. Britton was making the house over-warm, and Zeke preferred the fresh air. "I say, Zeke," said the breathless boy, "it's to come off to-night, un I'm a-goin', by hokey!" "What's to come off to-night?" "W'y, the hangin'--the hangin' of that young chap Tom down't Moscow; un I'm goin' to take grandad's ole flint-lock." "Your grandad's ole flint-lock! You might as well take a stick," said Zeke. "Oh! it'll go off ef you tech it off weth a coal of fire, but I don't 'low I kin find any coal to tech it off weth down thar," and S'manthy's son scratched his head thoughtfully. "But, anyways, it'll look like a gun in the night." "Yes, un you'll look like a man, I s'pose. But what time's Jake goin'?" "Twix' ten un 'leven. Donchoo be late." "You tell Jake not to go, noways, wethout me," said Zeke, hoping by this to delay Jake's start. XXIV FIRST COME, FIRST SERVED