"He's caught my lickin' ag'in," said Archie B., indignantly--"it's a pity he looks so much like me." It was true, and Ozzie B. stood and dug one toe into the ground, and sobbed and wiped his eyes on his shirt sleeve, and told how, in spite of his explanations and beseechings, the Whipper-in had met him down the road and thrashed him unmercifully. "Ozzie B.," said his brother, "you make me tired all over and in spots. I hate for as big a fool as you to look like me. Whyncher run--whyncher dodge him?" "I--I--wanted ter do my duty," sobbed Ozzie B. "Maw tole me ter drive--drive the cows right up the road--" Archie B. surveyed him with fine scorn: "When the Devil's got the road," said Archie B., "decent fo'ks had better take to the wood. I'd fixed him an' his ole dorg, an' now you come along an' spile it all." He made a cross mark in the road and spat on it. Then he turned with his back to the cross, threw his hat over his head and said slowly: "_Venture pee wee under the bridge! bam--bam--bam!_" "What's that fur?" asked Ozzie B., as he ceased sobbing. His brother always had something new, and it was always absorbingly interesting to Ozzie B. "That," said Archie B., solemnly, "I allers say after meetin' a Jonah in the road. The spell is now broke. Jus' watch me fix Jud Carpenter agin. Wanter see me git even with him? Well, come along." "What'll you do?" asked Ozzie B. "I'll make that mustang break his neck for the way he treated you, or my name ain't Archie B. Butts--that's all. _Venture pee wee under the bridge, bam--bam--bam!_" "No--oo--no," began Ozzie B., beginning to cry again--"Don't kill 'im--it'll be cruel." "Don't wanter see me go an' git even with the man that's jus' licked you for nuthin'?" "No--oo--no--" sobbed Ozzie B. "Paw says--leave--leave--that for--the Lord." "Tarnashun!"--said Archie B., spitting on the ground, disgustedly--, "too much relig'un is a dang'us thing. You've got all of paw's relig'un an' maw's brains, an' that's 'nuff said." With this he kicked Ozzie B. soundly and sent him, still sobbing, up the road. Then he ran across the wood to head off Jud Carpenter, who he knew had to go around a bend in the road. There was no bird that Archie B. could not mimic. He knew every creature of the wood. Every wild thing of the field and forest was his friend. Slipping into the underbrush, a hundred yards from the road down which he knew Jud Carpenter had to ride, he prepared himself for action. Drawing a turkey-call from his pocket, he gave the call of the wild turkey going to roost, as softly as a violinist tries his instrument to see if it is in tune. Prut--prut--prut--it rang out clear and distinctly. "All right,"--he said--"she'll do." He had not long to wait. Up the road he soon saw the Whipper-in, riding leisurely along. Archie B. swelled with anger at sight of the complacent and satisfactory way he rode along. He even thought he saw a smile--a kind of even-up smile--light his face.