Those who were not knocked down by the strange weapon scattered in every direction, crouching low.  For a moment the big fellow was master of the situation, and, standing alone in the doorway, in the full light of the moon, was easily recognized.

“Hell, boys!  Hit’s Young Matt hisself!” yelled the one who had raised a laugh, by saying that Young Matt was sick and the shepherd was wanted to doctor.

“Yes!  It’s me, Bill Simpson.  I’m sure ailin’ to-night.  I need somebody to go for a doctor powerful bad,” returned the young giant.

“We never knowed it war you,” whined the other carefully lengthening the distance between the big man on the doorstep and himself.

No, I reckon not.  You all played to find an old man alone, and do for him like you’ve done for others.  A fine lot you are, ten to one, and him not knowin’ the woods.”

While he was speaking, the men slowly retreated, to gather about their big leader under the tree, two of them being assisted by their companions, and one other limping painfully.  Young Matt raised his voice, “I know you, Wash Gibbs, and I know this here is your dirty work.  You’ve been a braggin’ what you’d do when you met up with me.  I’m here now.  Why don’t you come up like a man?  Come out here into the light and let’s you and me settle this thing right now.  You all—­” Crack!  A jet of flame leaped out of the shadow, and the speaker dropped like a log.

With a cry the shepherd ran to the side of his friend; but in a moment the crowd had again reached the cabin, and the old man was dragged from his fallen companion.  With all his strength, Mr. Howitt struggled with his captors, begging them to let him go to the boy.  But his hands were bound tightly behind his back, and when he still plead with those who held him, Wash Gibbs struck him full in the mouth, a blow that brought the blood.

They were leading the stunned and helpless old man away, when someone, who was bending over Young Matt, exclaimed, “You missed him, Wash!  Jest raked him.  He’ll be up in a minute.  An’ hell ’ll be to pay in th’ wilderness if he ain’t tied.  Better fix him quick.”

The big fellow already showed signs of returning consciousness, and, by the time they had tied his arms, he was able to struggle to his feet.  For a moment he looked dizzily around, his eyes turning from one evil, triumphant face to another, until they rested upon the bleeding countenance of his old friend.  The shepherd’s eyes smiled back a message of cheer, and the kind old man tried to speak, when Wash Gibbs made another threatening motion, with his clenched fist.

At this, a cry like the roar of a mad bull came from the young giant.  In his rage, he seemed suddenly endowed with almost superhuman strength.  Before a man of the startled company could do more than gasp with astonishment, he had shaken himself free from those who held him, and, breaking the rope with which he was bound, as though it were twine, had leaped to the shepherd’s side.