Bill allowed it was a mean trick we were playing on him; he said he had thought we were his friends, and that he'd done his best to give satisfaction in the place, and here we were, firing him, as you might say, without any warning, or giving him any chance to get another job like it, or even telling him where he had failed to make good, and then he snuffled like he was going to cry, and said: “That's a great way to treat an honest workin'-man, that is! An' they call this a free country, too!” But Squint, while expressing sorrow that we should have raised any false hopes, was firm with him, too. “You take the rest of that whiskey and chase along, now, Bill,” he said, “you aren't kidnapped any more.” But Bill flared up at that. “I ain't, ain't I?” he said. “Yer a liar! I was kidnapped fair and square; kidnapped I be, and kidnapped I stay! I'll show you blamed little cheats whether I'm kidnapped or not, I will!” He took a chew of tobacco and sat down on a log, and studied us, looking us over real sullen and spiteful. “Now, then,” he says, finally, “if you young smart alecs think you can treat a free man that-a-way yer dern fools. I got the law on to my side, I have. Do you think I don't know that? Mebby you boys don't know ye could go to jail for kidnappin' an honest work-in'-man? Well, ye could, if it was found out on ye. It's a crime, that's what it is, and ye could go to jail for it. You treat Old Bill fair and square and keep friends with him, and he won't tell on you; but the minute I hear any more talk about bein' set at liberty I'll tell on ye, and to jail you goes. I'm mighty comfortable where I be, and I ain't goin' to be turned out.” We all looked at each other, and then we looked away again, and our hearts sank. For each one read in his neighbour's eyes (as Squint said later) what his doom might well be. “Kidnapped I be,” says Bill again, very rough and decided, “and kidnapped I stay. And what's more, I want chicken for supper to-night. I ain't had no chicken for quite a spell. You can wake me up when supper's ready.” And he went into the cave and lay down for a nap. We were in his power, and he knew it! We had to steal that chicken, and it went against the grain to do it. It was the first time in its career of crime the Dalton Gang had ever actually stolen anything. Except, of course, watermelons and such truck, which isn't really stealing. And except the ice cream from the Methodist lawn sociable, which was for revenge and as a punishment on the Sunday School, and so not really stealing, either.