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"I don't know as it's your affair," the man returned, sullenly "We

ain't takin' no army orders at present, mister We 're free-born

American citizens, an' ye better let us alone"

"That is not what I asked you," and Brant squared his shoulders, his

hands clinched "My question was, Who is at the head of this outfit?

and I want an answer"

The spokesrin of

derision "Oh, ye do, hey? Well, I reckon we are, if you ot it in the shoulder this outfit right yere hes

bin doin' ot anythin' ter say,

mister officer man, I reckon ye better spit it out yere ter me, an'

sorter relieve yer orously into the leaves under foot, and

drawing one hairy hand across his lips, flushed angrily to the

unexpected inquiry

"Oh, tell him, Ben What's the blaed "I 'ht I had seen you somewhere before," said Brant,