There! A dinner group was shattered--away rolled the pot, and the fire flew. There--down collapsed a tent, as the cart struck the guy-ropes! Into a clearing burst the two animals--but straight for a wagon and ox team facing them, beyond! The wagon had no hood, and its principal occupants were a black-bearded, black-hatted, red-shirted man on the seat and a large barrel in the box. Duke must have been seeing red, by this time. His head down, he charged at the wagon, or oxen, or both. The man on the seat yelled; swung his arm at Duke; swung his whip at his own team--tried to turn them; and then, in a great panic, with a mighty leap landed asprawl and losing his hat, legged for safety, his boot-tags flopping and his shaggy hair tossing. "Ha, ha!" roared the spectators. And the man did indeed look funny. The yoke of oxen suddenly awakened to the danger, and sharply veered. Duke just missed them, at an angle--he and Jenny both, but the cart struck the rear of the wagon, tilted it, tilted the barrel, and there stayed, locking wheels with it, while Duke and Jenny were brought to a quick stand. Up raced Harry and Terry, to investigate damages. At the same time back clumped the man, aglare with rage. "Oh, crickity!" gasped Terry. "It's Pine Knot Ike!" "Hyar!" he bellowed. He searched for his precious hat and clapped it on his ragged locks. Now his hair and whiskers stood out all around his face. "Hyar! I want to ask what you mean by rampagin' through a peaceful collection o' citizens an' endangerin' the life an' property of a man in pursuit of his lawful okkipation? I air mild, strangers; I kin stan' a good deal, but now I air after blood. My name is Ike Chubbers, but most people call me Pine Knot Ike, 'cause I air so plaguey hard to chaw. That thar air your buffler, air it? Waal, I will now perceed to eat him." With that, Ike whipped a huge revolver from his belt--and instantly Harry sprang like a cat for him--grabbed the arm--"None of that, Pine Knot Ike!"--bang went the gun, and the bullet plinked somewhere, but not into Duke. "None of that, Mr. Ike Chubbers!" repeated Harry, stoutly forcing the muzzle upward. "You can't shoot any animal of ours. Besides, no damage had been done." "Yes; you can't go shooting promiscuous through a camp like this, friend," spoke somebody in the crowd that had gathered. "Those boys aren't to blame for their stampede. Put your gun where it belongs." "Why didn't you stay with your wagon?" demanded somebody else. Pine Knot Ike slowly relaxed. Harry released his grip on the revolver, and Ike glared around. His fierce black eyes came back to Harry, who stood breathless but ready. "We have met before, stranger," he growled. "You air the schoolmaster who nigh murdered me in this hyar very town. You know me, I reckon?" "I am the schoolmaster who made you dance, with your own revolver, after you'd threatened to kill me if I didn't drink liquor for you," retorted Harry. "Yes, I know you for a big bulldozer."