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 there kid…. Angus, hope twinkling in his heart, dragged back. His father cuffed him and cursed. Jake bore down upon him vengefully, wrenched Angus free, and with a savage blow sent Titus Burke headlong into the ditch.

“What’s this here? What’s a-goin’ on here?” Jake demanded as he stood over the man.

“He’s my kid,” whined Titus, “and I got a right to my own flesh and blood.”

Jake was startled. He turned to Angus. “Is this here critter your pa?”

Angus nodded, still trembling with terror.

“Now ain’t that hell!” said Jake with conviction. He scrutinized Burke, who was now scrambling to his feet. “So you’re Titus Burke, eh?” He leaned closer to make a more careful examination. “Titus Burke…. Titus Burke…. Maybe so, but that name kind of don’t fit into my mind as belongin’ to your face.” He scratched his head and rumbled in his throat. “I don’t forgit faces, pardner, and I hain‘’t seen yourn these ten-fifteen year…. Back in Springfield, that’s where it was, and your name wasn’t Burke, not by a darn sight…. Now what was it that set you in my mem’ry?”

Jake drew Angus behind him and his manner changed. “Now you git—whatever your name is,” he said in a businesslike way. “Git and git quick; and if ever I ketch you botherin’ this kid