“And you a deacon’s son!” exclaimed Joe, in comic expostulation.

“I don’t know what the old man would have said if he’d heard me, or Cousin Bill, either.”

“Then one part is true—­you have a Cousin Bill?”

“That isn’t the only part that’s true; he did help me and dad hayin’.”

“But his head is still safe on his shoulders?”

“I hope so.”

“I don’t think we can find as much truth in the story of our friend over yonder.”

“Nor I. If there was a prize offered for tall lyin’ I guess he’d stand a good chance to get it.”

“Do you know, Joshua, fire-eater as he is, I suspect that he is a coward.”

“You do?”

“Yes, and I have a mind to put him to the test.”

“How will you do it?”

“One day an old hunter came into my restaurant, and kept coming for a week.  He was once taken prisoner by the Indians, and remained in their hands for three months.  He taught me the Indian war-whoop, and out of curiosity I practised it till I can do it pretty well.”

“What’s your plan?”

“To have you fire off your gun so as to wake him up.  Then I will give a loud war-whoop and see how it affects the gentleman from Pike County.”

“He may shoot us before he finds out the deception.”

“It will be well first to remove his revolver to make all safe.  I wish you could give the war-whoop, too.  It would make a louder noise.”

“How do you do it?”

Joe explained.

“I guess I can do it.  You start it, and I’ll j’in in, just as I used to do in singin’ at meetin’.  I never could steer through a tune straight by myself, but when the choir got to goin’, I helped ’em all I could.”

“I guess you can do it.  Now let us make ready.”

The Pike County man’s revolver was removed while he was unconsciously sleeping.  Then Joshua and our hero ensconced themselves behind trees, and the Yankee fired his gun.

The Pike man started up, still half asleep and wholly bewildered, when within a rod of him he heard the dreadful war-whoop.  Then another more discordant voice took up the fearful cry.  Joshua did very well considering that it was his first attempt.

Then the man from Pike County sprang to his feet.  If it had been daylight, his face would have been seen to wear a pale and scared expression.  It did not appear to occur to him to make a stand against the savage foes who he felt convinced were near at hand.  He stood not on the order of going, but went at once.  He quickly unloosed his beast, sprang upon his back, and galloped away without apparently giving a thought to the companions with whom he had camped out.

When he was out of hearing Joe and Bickford shouted with laughter.

“You see I was right,” said Joe.  “The man’s a coward.”

“He seemed in a hurry to get away,” said Joshua dryly.  “He’s the biggest humbug out.”