Without waiting to be bidden, a man of massive mould entered the room. He strode into the firelight, and, wheeling on the hearth, faced the company, his shadow filling half the room.

“Good evening, gentlemen. Good evening, Mr. Felton and Graves.”

The latter stood with the untasted dram half way to his gaping mouth, the other was as motionless, save as his face expressed successively astonishment, anger, and exultation.

“Colonel Ethan Allen,” he said at last, emphasizing the title. “Most happy to receive a call from so distinguished a person. A very fortunate meeting.” Then changing his tone of mock politeness to one of command: “You are my prisoner. Men, lay hold of him! A hundred pounds are offered for his head! It is Ethan Allen! Lay hold of him, I tell you!”

There was a reluctant stir among the men. One advanced toward the corner near the fireplace where the guns were set. With deliberate celerity Allen drew his hands from the skirts of his coat, a cocked pistol in each, and, with one of them, he covered the man skulking towards the guns.

“The first man that draws a pistol or raises a gun gets a bullet through his carcass,” he said with authority.

At Allen’s first words Seth had mounted the ladder and as quickly reappeared with his gun. The movement was seen in the dancing shadows, and he was covered by the other pistol, which was lowered as he was distinguished to be helping a woman and child to mount to the chamber.

“Down with your gun over there! Oh, it is our friend Beeman! All right!” Then Allen called in a voice that made the pewter dishes ring on their shelves:

“Come in, men!”

The door swung violently open, and Job Carpenter, with all the arms-bearing men of the wide neighborhood, to the number of a dozen, came marching in, in Indian file, with rifle or smooth-bore at a trail. In the rear was Nathan, unarmed, but eager to see all that should transpire.

Felton and Graves lost their bold demeanor, yet held their places, while their men slunk to the farther side of the room in dumb affright, save Jenkins, the cook, who, dodging this side and that of Allen’s burly form, hovered near his frying-pans in a divided fear for his own safety and that of his pork.

“Keep every one of these men under close guard, my boys,” Allen commanded, “especially these two chief offenders. Now, Mr. Felton, perhaps it is made plain to you that I am not your prisoner, and that the gods of the valleys are not the gods of the hills. Behold how riches take to themselves wings and fly away even before they are possessed. In witness whereof, consider the hundred pounds offered by your Governor for an honest man. No wonder he longs for the sight of one, with such a pack of thieves and land jobbers as he has about him.”

“An honest man?” cried Felton, trembling with rage. “A ruffian! A rioter! A defier of law!” and he poured forth a torrent of opprobrious names, and a full measure of curses, till out of breath.

“Go on, Master Felton, go on,” said Allen, smiling benignly upon him. “Ease yourself. Unless it be prayer, which you rarely employ, I doubt, there is nothing like good round cursing to relieve an overburdened heart. Upon occasion I avail myself of the remedy. Pray go on, or give your friend a chance. Mr. Graves, you have the floor,” but the man addressed only glowered savagely.

“Well, if you have offered all your burnt offerings of brimstone, let the men have their supper and make themselves strong for their journey. Dish up the pork, cook, that you have been bumping my legs to get at, and bring out your bread bag. Stir yourselves. We have weighty business pending.”

The men ate their meat and bread with the appetite of those whom no emotion can cheat of a meal, but Felton and Graves would have none of it. The Green Mountain Boys sat apart, chatting in low tones, till the smokers were filling their pipes after their meal, when Allen rapped the table with the butt of his pistol, and his clear, deep voice broke the silence that ensued.

“Friends of the Grants, you all know we have come here to erect the ‘Judgment seat’ this night, and mete out such punishment as doth unto justice appertain. Yea, verily, for wrongs done or sought to be done upon the people of these New Hampshire Grants. We will at once elect a judge. To save time, I will nominate Ethan Allen as a proper person for that office. You that would elect him say ‘Aye.’”

There was a unanimous affirmative response, even Nathan, proud of the opportunity of giving his first vote, made his piping treble heard among the deep voices of the men.

“Contrary minded, make the usual sign.”

There was only a sullen “No” from Felton.

“You are not entitled to vote in this meeting, sir. I have a clear majority and will take my seat.” So saying, Allen seated himself upon the table.

“The plain facts of the case are these: This Mr. Felton and this Graves, also, were taken by me, and certain other good men, about one month ago, in the act of surveying, under the pretended authority of the tyrannical New York government, lands already granted by His Excellency Benning Wentworth, His Majesty’s duly appointed Governor of New Hampshire. The said persons were ordered to desist from such unlawful business and to depart from these Grants, and were duly warned not to return for a like purpose under pain of being ‘Viewed.’ Furthermore, they were suffered to depart without bodily harm. Here the surveyor comes again, like a bad penny as he is, bearing the King’s mark, but a base counterfeit none the less. And this Graves pretends to own this pitch by right of purchase under York government. Other than them I do not recognize any among this crew who have been ‘Warned.’ Now, friend Beeman, tell us your story.”

Seth told what had passed between him and the surveyor, and then Nathan was called to relate his meeting the party in the woods, which he did in a straightforward manner, except for his boyish bashfulness.

“Now, you have it all. Felton and Graves are here, as you see, in prosecution of their unlawful business, as the testimony of this boy and his father shows. In further proof whereof, see the surveyor’s instruments here in view. What say you, men of the Grants, are they guilty or not guilty?”

“Guilty,” said the various voices.

“What shall be their punishment? That they be chastised with the twigs of the wilderness?”

There was general affirmative response, some answering loudly, others faintly and hesitatingly. Then Job Carpenter stepped forward, and, making a military salute, said:

“I don’t go agin these men a gittin’ what they desarve, but I don’t want to have them skinned. Their skins hain’t worth a-hevin’ only for their selves, and I hate to see white men whipped like dogs. If they was Injins I wouldn’t say agin it. But, bein’ they hain’t, I move they hev jest nine cuts o’ the Blue Beech apiece.”

“Forty, save one,” was the customary award in such cases, and there were a few dissenting voices, but the milder punishment was finally agreed upon.

If the two men under sentence felt any gratitude for the mitigation of the severity, they expressed none. Graves maintained a sullen silence, though his vengeful scowl expressed as much hatred of the prosecutors of the informal trial as did the storm of oaths and abuse that Felton let forth upon them in intermittent gusts.

So the night passed, with snatches of sleep for some, with none for others, while the prisoners were kept under constant guard. With daylight came the summary infliction of the punishment awarded. It was a scene so cruel that Ruth and Martha could not bear to hear, much less to witness it, and Nathan, when an old man, said it was a horrible memory. Yet, severe as was the chastisement inflicted by the Green Mountain Boys upon their persecutors, it was no more cruel than the legal punishment of many light offences in those days, when the whipping post was one of the first adornments of every little hamlet. In conclusion, Ethan Allen gave to Felton and Graves a “Certificate,” written by himself, to the effect:

“This is to Certify that the Bearer has this day rec’d his Just Dues and is permitted to pass beyond the New Hampshire Grants. He Behaving as Becometh. In witness whereof, see the Beech Seal upon his back and our Hands set Hereunto. Signed, Ethan Allen and others.”

Felton cast his upon the ground and stamped upon it, but Graves folded and put his carefully in his pocket, glowering in silence upon his enemies. Then Ethan Allen broke the surveyor’s compass with his own hands and tossed the fragments away.

“Now,” said he, in an awful voice, “depart, and woe be unto you, Marmaduke Felton and Erastus Graves, if you ever set foot in the land of the Green Mountain Boys. You other men, if you come in peace and on honest business, you shall not have a hair of your heads hurt. But if you ever venture to come on such an iniquitous errand as now brought you, by the Great Jehovah, you shall repent in sackcloth and ashes! Forward, march!”

At the command, the surveyor and his men filed off, and the last of the sullen and chap-fallen crew soon disappeared among the trees. They were accompanied some distance by the Green Mountain Boys, when their beloved chieftain rode away to redress wrongs of settlers in other parts.

By noon the clearing was occupied by none but its usual tenants, and, henceforth, though they suffered frequent apprehension of further trouble, they were not molested by any New York claimants.