It was a flimsy excuse. Luke knew well enough where Andy lived, and if he had wanted to ask him anything at all, he might easily have come to his house. Any farfetched chance that he might actually have followed Andy into the swamp to ask about anything at all was refuted by the fact that he had been hiding in the gra.s.s. Andy's voice was dangerously low-pitched,

"Get up, Luke!"

"Not afore ya cool a mite."

Andy reached down, grasped the other's coat collar, jerked him erect and spun him around. When he swung, the blow started at the tips of his toes and traveled through his clenched fist. He connected squarely, and Luke Trull sat down suddenly in the gra.s.s.

Supporting himself with both arms, he looked intently at Andy. His eyes remained cold and the smile was gone. Andy spoke quietly,

"Get out! Don't come back!"

Without a word, Luke Trull rose and shuffled away. Andy had a sudden cold feeling. Luke Trull was no more ethical than a rattlesnake, and he was far more dangerous. Andy knew that the man would come again, but he would not be caught again. Nor would he ever forget this. One way or another, he would have his revenge, and if he confined his vengeance to wiping out the muskrat colonies, Andy would be lucky.

The boy's courage returned. He had known when he planned his muskrat ranch that it would be no easy task and that he would have to fight for it, so fight he would.

Andy picked up his pack board and in what remained of the day went back to the place where Frosty had disappeared. He searched carefully but he could not find the kitten, and when he returned to the house, Frosty was not there. The boy dawdled over a skimpy supper and went dispiritedly to bed.

Rising at daybreak, Andy hurried eagerly to the door and called, but his frost-coated partner did not respond. Pondering the advisability of going again to look for him, he decided that it would be a waste of time. He'd already covered that whole section very thoroughly without finding a trace of the kitten. Frosty would be found when and if he was ready.

Andy was on the point of going into the swamp to check on the muskrats he had planted yesterday, but he caught up a hoe instead and went to his garden. Sadly neglected for too long, weeds were crowding vegetables.

Andy hoed his way down the aisles in his onion patch. Putting the hoe aside, he knelt to pull the weeds that were growing among the onions.

Hearing a car on the road, he merely glanced up briefly, then resumed his weeding. He expected no visitors, certainly none who might drive a car.

Suddenly a crisp voice asked, "Is your name Gates?"

Andy turned, startled, and rose to confront a young man who wore a State Policeman's uniform. Reserved and doing his best to uphold both the dignity and the authority of his position, nevertheless the young trooper could not completely hide a sparkle in his eye and a humorous twist to his mouth. Andy said,

"I'm Gates."

"Andrew Gates?"

"That's right."

"I have a warrant for your arrest."

Andy gave way to astonishment. "A what?"

"Do you want me to read it to you?"

"What's it about?"

"An a.s.sault warrant sworn out by a man named Trull. Let's see," the trooper glanced at the warrant, "Luke Trull."

Andy clenched his jaws. Joe Wilson, who had said that Luke would not fight back, but would go to the State Police if Andy hit him, had known exactly what he was talking about.

The trooper looked steadily at Andy. "Well?"

"That's right."

"You a.s.saulted this Trull character?"

"Yes."

"And you admit it?"

"I admit it."

The trooper turned quizzical. "Why?"

"I found him in my swamp."

"Is the swamp posted?"

"No."

"Did he threaten you?"

"No."

"Yours was a wilful attack?"

"Yes."

"Have you nothing to say in your own defense?"

Andy answered wearily, "It would take too long. You'd have to know Luke Trull."

The trooper, who never should have done so and never would have done so had he been more experienced, grinned. "I'll have to take you in."

"Okeh. I'll just let my chickens out to forage."

Side by side, a somehow awkward silence between them, they walked to the chicken pen and then on to the trooper's parked car. The officer made a U-turn and started toward town. He asked suddenly,

"What do you want in that swamp?"

"Quite a few things."

"This Trull--seems to me I've seen his name on our records--what's he want there?"

"Something that belongs to me."

"Did he steal from you?"

"No."

"I don't get it."