“In that event,” said Gilbert Scarlett, “I shall be forced to alter your mind.”

A little earlier, Ezra had had before him a youthful, careless face, had listened to boastful, empty speech and had smiled. But in an instant all was altered. The face was now hard and lined; the careless mouth was tight shut and cruel looking, the voice was sharp and peremptory.

“Once more—and for the last time, mark you—I invite you to get down.”

“I think your contempt for colonials has led you astray,” said Ezra, still with a smile. “We do not give up our belongings so easily in this part of the world.”

The man took a step forward, his breath seeming to hiss between his teeth; then his sword flashed out of its scabbard. But at the same instant Ezra’s long holster pistol came into play. The afternoon light gleamed dully upon the steel barrel, as he supported it in the hollow of his left arm.

“Before you display any of your deftness with the sword blade,” spoke the young New Englander, coolly, “listen to a few words of disinterested advice. I say disinterested, because it makes no difference to me how you take it. But it would, perhaps, be a great deal better for you if you reconsidered this matter. A gentleman of your confessed military experience can no doubt play the sword with accuracy. But don’t forget that a bullet travels faster—and don’t compel me to start this one on its travels.”

The young stranger listened to this quietly-spoken warning with varying expressions of face. At first it seemed that he would defy the pistol; indeed he drew back his arm for a blow. Then he paused, baffled; at last a comical look came upon his face, his point touched the ground and he stepped back with a ringing laugh.

“For your advice I offer many thanks.” He took off his hat as he spoke and its plume swept the earth. “And I will take it,” driving his blade back in its sheath. “I have made a grave military blunder. In what you call my contempt for colonials I overlooked the possibility of your being armed. I admit defeat and pray you mercy.”

The situation was so quaint a one that Ezra also laughed. But he did not take his eyes from the other, neither did his pistol go back to its place in the holster.

“The situation remains as it was when I came up,” said the boy. “Here you stand beside your fallen horse and off I go on my way to Chelmsford.”

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