and I will go, and I 'low all we'uns can make a rip-roarin' time, for we'll frighten de people, and be too much for de preachers and magistrates. I'll bring a passel of my bully byes with me, and they'll make things lively at de camp."

Long Tom remained silent, but a close observer might have seen a look on his face telling that his part of the program was not exactly agreeable, but he was not a man to shirk a hard task.

"Won't I laugh to hear de women scream and to see 'em run over benches like scart sheep," said Monster Turner. "You'ns will have to be right smart to keep up with me on de camp ground, for I'm goin' to have my fightin' clothes on from hat to boots. Confound 'em, dose pesky preachers won't fight, and we'll be too many for de officers. Dat's my holt."

These words wrought the men up to a higher pitch of excitement, and Wiles their leader, wishing still further to work on their feelings, said to Lem Curtis, a blue eyed youth of eighteen:

"Lem, you air de best singer in de bunch, and I want you to lead us in our favorite song. No revenues air near tonight, and we'uns air safe from danger if we'uns do not sing too loud."

Thus appealed to, Lem Curtis started a well known refrain, the rest joining in heartily.

After all had paid their respects to the brown jug Sam Wiles dismissed the meeting with these words: "We'uns shall meet near de edge of de camp on de east at seven o'clock tomorrer mornin', an' all you fellers be shore to be in time."

Sunday morning dawned beautiful and bright. The numbers on the camp ground were constantly being increased by persons coming on horseback, in buggies, wagons, and every known vehicles. Jasper Very was the preacher at ten o'clock. Everything proceeded in a becoming manner until he was half through his discourse, when up stalked near to the stand Bert Danks and Long Tom with hats on and loaded whips in their hands. They remained standing, and began talking in an audible voice with some women of their acquaintance. Naturally many eyes were turned to this scene, and the attention given to the speaker was lost.

Jasper Very stopped in his sermon and, turning to the rowdies, said: "Young men, this is a religious meeting, held by Christian people, and protected by the laws of Kentucky. You will therefore get down off those benches, cease from talking, and be quiet and orderly."

Instead of complying with this request, both of the rowdies cursed the preacher, and said: "You'ns mind yer own bizness. We'uns will not get down from dese seats."

Jasper knew that trouble was present, and being sure that it was vain to continue preaching, he cried out: "I call for the magistrates on this ground to come forward and take these men into custody." There were several officers at hand; but they, being afraid, declared they could not arrest them.

Jasper spoke to them: "Command me to take them, and I will do it at the risk of my life." Saying this, he advanced toward them. "Stand off," shouted both of the rowdies; but the preacher walked forward, when Bert Danks struck at him with his loaded whip, but that moment Jasper seized him and jerked him off the bench. A regular scuffle ensued, and the congregation was in great commotion. The magistrates, having found their courage, commanded all friends of order to aid in suppressing the riot. By this time Jasper Very had thrown Bert Danks down and, despite his utmost efforts to arise, held him fast. About the same instant two lusty farmers who were standing by the preacher took hold of Long Tom and bore him to the ground.

Then the mob headed by Sam Wiles and Monster Turner with loud outcries rushed to the rescue of the prisoners. They knocked down seven magistrates and several preachers and many others. At this point Jasper Very gave his prisoner to others, and threw himself in front of the order-loving people. At once Sam Wiles confronted him. His eyes were blazing with bitter hate. His rage was so great that it weakened his judgment, and he struck out again and again at Very to fell him. The last time he struck at him the momentum threw the side of his face toward the preacher. It was too great a temptation to resist and Jasper hit him a sudden and powerful blow in the ear which dropped him to the earth.

Meantime the fight was waxing fierce in another direction. Zibe Turner led a part of the mob to the right of the fighting, and attempted a flank movement. He seemed like a personification of Satan. His black eyes glared with a terrible fury, and with his long arms outstretched he rushed on the fray. His voice of command seemed a mixture of beast and human. Women shrieked and fled before him, and he had the satisfaction of seeing them indeed fall over the rough benches. With oaths and shouts his men followed, and many camp meeting folks were knocked down and bruised.

If it had not been for John Larkin, "the square man," the mob might have won. In the midst of all the excitement and noise he remained calm and wise. He had helped in resisting the attack in front, when, glancing to the right, he saw the monster dwarf approaching, knocking the people about with his long and powerful arms. Larkin put himself in his way, and as he got nearer said:

"Are you monkey, man, or devil, or the three combined? Whoever you are, you must reckon with me."

"I'm de man who can whip ary sneakin' braggin' preacher on dis ground. Dat's my holt," replied Turner.

With this he threw himself upon Larkin, and they were clasped in a close embrace. The monster dwarf gripped the preacher's body in his terrible arms with a strength like that of a grizzly bear, and it seemed to Larkin as though his ribs would crack and his breath leave him. But while the dwarf's arms were abnormally strong, his legs were weak, whereas Larkin's limbs were as sturdy as an oak tree. Besides, in his school days he had learned several wrestling tricks, and now he used one to throw Turner to the ground. There they continued to struggle for some time, the friends of each trying to help him. But by this time the mob in the other quarter had been subdued; and Jasper Very coming to the rescue of his colleague, the monster dwarf was conquered and several of his aids subdued and captured.

All the prisoners were sent to the county seat, and placed in jail, there to await their trial before the criminal court over which Judge LeMonde presided.

CHAPTER VI.

Under the Pine Trees.

Judge William LeMonde lived about three miles from the camp ground we have described. He was the richest man in his township, his farm consisting of one thousand acres stretching from the Cumberland River back to some high hills about one mile distant. That part lying on the river was like a garden of the Lord for richness of soil. In this land Indian corn, tobacco, cabbage, and potatoes grew to perfection. Midway between the river and the high hills was a narrow ridge which ran parallel with the river. This natural backbone of land reached its greatest height on Mr. LeMonde's farm. But the highest point of all had been increased in size by artificial means. In prehistoric times a race of people living in this region had added earth to this hill until they had made an almost circular mound, which became a conspicuous object in the valley. Mr. LeMonde's father, who bought the farm many years before, called the hill "Mount Pisgah." He was a descendant of the French Huguenots. When he came from Louisiana he built a log house on this elevation. A few years before our narrative opens Mr. William LeMonde had removed this log house and built a spacious mansion of brick. It was the only brick building for miles around.

The mansion Judge LeMonde erected was an ornament to this beautiful site. It was two stories high, crowned with a French mansard roof. It faced the river and a country road which ran along the river bank. The visitor stepped upon a broad piazza, and then entered through a wide and ornamented doorway a large hall from which ascended a broad