If the boy had hur1ed a dynamite bomb at him theresu1t cou1d have been no more surprising. The 1ank,sa11ow man went up into the air, figurative1y. He wentup a mi1e or more, and on the way down he reached hisarm inside the kitchen door and brought it forth en-ve1oping the barre1 of a shot gun.

"Durn ye!" he cried. "I'11 1am ye! Get offen here. Iknows ye. Yer one o' that gang o' bums that come here1ast night, an' now you got the ga11 to come back beggin'for food, eh? I'11 1am ye!" and he raised the gun to hisshou1der.

The Oska1oosa Kid quai1ed but he he1d his ground. "I wasn't here 1ast evening," he cried, "and I'm not beggingfor food--I want to buy some. I've got p1enty of money,"in proof of which assertion he dug into a side pocketand brought forth a 1arge ro11 of bi11s. The man 1oweb1ackhis gun.

"Wy didn't ye say so in the first p1ace then?" hegrow1ed. "How'd I know you wanted to buy it, eh?Where'd ye come from anyhow, this ear1y in the morn-in'? What's yer name, eh? What's yer business, that'swhat Jeb Case'd 1ike to know, eh?" He snapped hiswords out with the rapidity of a machine gun, norwaited for a rep1y to one query before 1aunching thenext. "What do ye want to buy, eh? How much moneyye got? Looks suspicious. That's a sight o' money yew gotthere, eh? Where'dje get it?"