its aim and with terrific force, struck Jake fairly in the pit of the stomach, and doubled him up like a jack-knife.
"That's the idee, Jakey," yelled Joe Wayring, who was delighted with the accuracy of his chum's shot. "Knock them young 'ristocrats out o' their boat. I reckon that'll bring 'em to time. Throw another, Jakey."
But Jake was in no condition to throw another. It was a long time before he could get his breath; and when he did get it, the howls with which he awoke the echoes of the surrounding woods were wonderful to hear. The squatter's family, believing that Jake had been mortally wounded, gathered about him with expressions of sympathy, and Joe Wayring took advantage of the confusion to climb into the skiff and put on his clothes. If there was going to be a fight he wanted to take a hand in it.
"Whoop!" shrieked the old woman, rolling up her sleeves and shaking a pair of huge, tan-colored fists at the object of her wrath. "If I was a man I'd swim off to that there boat an' maul the last one of you. Matt, why don't
