"But that trigger ought to be looked after," he added. "You
wouldn't want it to miss fire at a critical moment."
He stepped forward and, while Roger swung the representation of a bear,
he fired another shot.
"Good for you!" exclaimed the senator's son in admiration. "You took him
right in the throat, Dave!"
"Hold up there! Stop that! Do you hear me, you young rascals! Do you
want to kill me?"
The call came from the back road, and looking in that direction, the
three boys saw a well-dressed man coming toward them on the run. He was
carrying a whip, and his face was full of sudden passion.
"It's Aaron Poole, Nat's father!" said Dave, as he lowered the pistol in
his hand.
"I say, are you trying to kill me?" cried the miserly money-lender of
Crumville, as he came closer, and he shook his whip at Dave.
"Why, no, Mr. Poole," answered Dave, as calmly as he could. "What makes
you think that?"
"Oh, you needn't play innocent," snarled Aaron Poole. "You just fired a
shot at me! It went through my buggy top." And the money-lender pointed
to the back road, where stood his horse and carriage. "Nice doings, I
must say!"
"Mr. Poole, I didn't fire at you," answered Dave. "I didn't know anybody
was out there on the road,--and I didn't fire in that direction.
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