If the boy had hurled a dynamite bomb at him the result could have been no more surprising. The lank, sallow man went up into the air, figuratively. He went up a mile or more, and on the way down he reached his hand inside the kitchen door and brought it forth enveloping the barrel of a shot gun. “Durn ye!” he cried. “I'll lam ye! Get offen here. I knows ye. Yer one o' that gang o' bums that come here last night, an' now you got the gall to come back beggin' for food, eh? I'll lam ye!” and he raised the gun to his shoulder. The Oskaloosa Kid quailed but he held his ground. “I wasn't here last night,” he cried, “and I'm not begging for food--I want to buy some. I've got plenty of money,” in proof of which assertion he dug into a side pocket and brought forth a large roll of bills. The man lowered his gun. “Wy didn't ye say so in the first place then?” he growled. “How'd I know you wanted to buy it, eh? Where'd ye come from anyhow, this early in the mornin'? What's yer name, eh? What's yer business, that's what Jeb Case'd like to know, eh?” He snapped his words out with the rapidity of a machine gun, nor waited for a reply to one query before launching the next. “What do ye want to buy, eh? How much money ye got? Looks suspicious. That's a sight o' money yew got there, eh? Where'dje get it?” “It's mine,” said The Oskaloosa Kid, “and I want to buy some eggs and milk and ham and bacon and flour and onions and sugar and cream and strawberries and tea and coffee and a frying pan and a little oil stove, if you have one to spare, and--” Jeb Case's jaw dropped and his eyes widened. “You're in the wrong pasture, bub,” he remarked feelingly. “What yer lookin' fer is Sears, Roebuck & Company.” The Oskaloosa Kid flushed up to the tips of his ears. “But can't you sell me something?” he begged. “I might let ye have some milk an' eggs an' butter an' a leetle bacon an' mebby my ol' woman's got a loaf left from her last bakin'; but we ain't been figgerin' on supplyin' grub fer the United States army ef that's what yew be buyin' fer.” A frowsy, rat-faced woman and a gawky youth of fourteen stuck their heads out the doorway at either side of the man. “I ain't got nothin' to sell,” snapped the woman; but as she spoke her eyes fell upon the fat bank roll in the youth's hand. “Or, leastwise,” she amended, “I ain't got much more'n we need an' the price o' stuff's gone up so lately that I'll hev to ask ye more'n I would of last fall. 'Bout what did ye figger on wantin'?” “Anything you can spare,” said the youth. “There are three of us and we're awful hungry.” “Where yew stoppin'?” asked the woman. “We're at the old Squibbs' place,” replied The Kid. “We got caught by the storm last night and had to put up there.” “The Squibbs' place!” ejaculated the woman. “Yew didn't stop there over night?” “Yes we did,” replied the youth. “See anything funny?” asked Mrs. Case.