"Ye may show me scars all over him, fur's I know," was Peakslow's reply to this argument. "That may prove that he's been hurt by suth'n or other,--elephant, or not; but it don't prove you ever owned him."

"I can satisfy you with regard to that," said Jack, confidently. "Do you object to going down with me and looking at him?"

"Not in the least, only wait till I git this wheel on. Ye may go and _see_ the hoss in my presence, but ye can't _take_ the hoss, without I'm satisfied you've the best right to him."

"That's all I ask, Mr. Peakslow; I want only what belongs to me. If you are a loser, you must look for redress to the man who sold you my property; and he must go back on the next man."

"How's that?" put in Zeph, grinning over his grease-pot. "Pa thinks he's got a good deal better hoss than he put away; and you ain't agoin' to crowd him out of a good bargain, I bet!"

"Hold your tongue!" growled Peakslow. "I can fight my own battles, without any of your tongue. I put away a pooty good hoss, and I gin fifteen dollars to boot."

"What man did you trade with?" Jack inquired.

"A truckman in Chicago. He liked my hoss, and I liked hisn, and we swapped. He wanted twenty dollars, I offered him ten, and we split the difference. He won't want to give me back my hoss and my money, now; and ye can't blame him. And the next man won't want to satisfy _him_. Grant the hoss is stole, for the sake of the argyment," said Peakslow. "I maintain that when an animal that's been stole, and sold, and traded, finally gits into an honest man's hands, it's right he should stay there."

"Even if it's your horse, and the honest man who gets him is your neighbor?" queried Jack.

"I do'no'--wal--yes!" said Peakslow. "It's a hard case, but no harder one way than t' other."

"But the law looks at it in only one way," replied Jack. "And with reason. Men must be careful how they deal with thieves or get hold of stolen property. How happens it that you, Mr. Peakslow, didn't know that such a horse had been stolen? Some of your neighbors knew it very well."

"Some of my neighbors I don't have nothin' to say to," answered Peakslow, gruffly. "If you mean the Bettersons, they're a pack of thieves and robbers themselves, and I don't swap words with none of 'em, without 't is to tell 'em my mind; that I do, when I have a chance."

"You use pretty strong language when you call them thieves and robbers, Mr. Peakslow."

"Strong or not, it's the truth. Hain't they cheated me out o' the best part of my farm?"

"The Bettersons--cheated you!" exclaimed Jack.

They were now on the way to the pasture; and Peakslow, in a sort of lurid excitement, pointed to the boundary fence.

"My line, by right, runs five or six rod t' other side. I took up my claim here, and Betterson bought hisn, 'fore ever the guv'ment survey run through. That survey fixed my line 'way over yender in their cornfield. And there I claim it belongs, to this day."

"But, Mr. Peakslow, how does it happen that a man like Mr. Betterson has been able to rob a man like _you_,--take a part of your farm before your very eyes? He is a rather slack, easy man; while you, if I'm not greatly mistaken, are in the habit of standing up for your rights."

"I can gin'ly look out for myself," said Peakslow. "And don't suppose that Lord Betterson took me down and put his hands in my pockets, alone."

"Nine men, with masks on," cried Zeph, "come to our house one night, and told pa they'd jest tear his ruf right down over his head, and drive him out of the county, if he didn't sign a deed givin' Betterson that land."

"Hold your yawp, Zeph!" muttered Peakslow. "I can tell my own story.

There was nine of 'em, all armed, and what could I do?"

"This is a most extraordinary story!" exclaimed Jack. "Did you sign the deed?"

"I couldn't help myself," said Peakslow.

"It seems to me I _would_ have helped myself, if the land was rightfully mine!" cried Jack. "They _might_ tear my house down,--they _might_ try to drive me out of the county,--I don't believe I would deed away my land, just because they threatened me, and I was afraid."

"It's easy to talk that way," Peakslow replied. "But, come case in hand,--the loaded muzzles in your face,--you'd change your mind."

"Didn't they pay for the land they took?"

"Barely nothin'; jest the guv'ment price; dollar 'n' a quarter an acre.

But jest look at that land to-day,--the best in the State,--wuth twenty dollars an acre, if 't is a cent."

"What was Betterson's claim?" Jack asked; "for men don't often do such things without some sort of excuse."

"They hild that though the survey gin me the land, it was some Betterson had supposed belonged to his purchase. Meanwhile he had j'ined a land-claim society, where the members all agreed to stand by one another; and that was the reason o' their takin' sich high-handed measures with me."

Jack was inclined to cross-question Peakslow, and sift a little this astonishing charge against Betterson and the land-claim society. But they had now reached the pasture bars, and the question relating to the ownership of the horse was to be settled.

The Betterson boys were still sitting on the fence, where Jack had left them; but Snowfoot had returned to his grazing.

"Call him," said Jack. "If he doesn't come for you, then see if he will come for me."

Peakslow grumblingly declined the test.

"He doesn't always come when I call him," said Jack. "I'll show you what I do then. Here, Lion!"

He took from his pocket an ear of corn he had picked by the way, placed one end of it between the dog's jaws, saying, "Bring Snowfoot, Lion!

bring Snowfoot!" and let him through the bars.

Lion trotted into the pasture, trotted straight up to the right horse, coaxed and coquetted with him for a minute, and then trotted back.

Snowfoot followed, leering and nipping, and trying to get the ear of corn.

Lion brought the ear to Jack, and Jack gave it to Snowfoot, taking him at the same time by the forelock.

"What do you think of that?" he said, looking round in triumph at Peakslow.

"I don't see as it's anything to make sich a fuss over," said Peakslow, looking angrily across at the spectators on the boundary fence, as they cheered the success of the man[oe]uvre. "It shows you've larnt your dog tricks,--nothin' more. 'Most any hoss would foller an ear of corn that way."

"Why didn't your hoss follow it?"

"The dog didn't go for my hoss."

"Why didn't he go for your horse, as soon as for mine?" urged Jack.

To which Peakslow could only reply,--

"Ye needn't let down the top bar; ye can't take that hoss through! I traded for him, and paid boot, and you've got to bring better evidence than your say-so, or a dog's trick, 'fore I give up my claim."

"I'll bring you evidence," said Jack, turning away in no little impatience and disgust.

He hastened back to Mr. Betterson's house, and was met by the boys as he came into the yard.

"What did I tell you?" said Rufe. "Couldn't get him, could you?"

"No, but I will!" replied Jack, untying the horse, which he had left hitched to an oak-tree. "I'm going for a witness." He backed the wagon around. "Get in, if you like,"--to Rufus.