He tried to work out this problem.  He conceived a man of gigantic size, vast muscles, inexhaustible strength.  The power of a bear and the swift cunning of a wild cat—­such must have been the man who struck down Uncle Bill and sent him home a shattered remnant of his old self.

There was another mystery.  Why did the destroyer not finish his task?  Why did he take pity on Uncle Bill Campbell and bind up the wounds he had himself made?  Here the mind of Bull Hunter paused.  He could not pass the mysterious idea of another than himself pitying Uncle Bill.  It was pitying a hawk in the sky.

Harry was taking away the dishes and throwing them in the little tub of lukewarm water where the grease would be carelessly soused off them.

“Did you get up that stump?” asked Uncle Bill suddenly.

There was a familiar ring in his voice.  Woe to them if they had not carried out his orders!  All three of the young men quaked, and Bull laid aside his book.

“We done it,” answered Joe in a quavering voice.

“You done it?” asked Bill.

“We—­we dug her pretty well clear, then Bull pulled her up.”

Some of the wrath ebbed out of the face of Bill as he glanced at the huge form of Bull.  “Stand up!” he ordered.

Bull arose.

The keen eye of the old man went over him from head to foot slowly.  “Someday,” he said slowly, speaking entirely to himself.  “Someday—­maybe!”

What he expected from Bull “someday” remained unknown.  The dishwashing was swiftly finished.  Then Uncle Bill made a feeble effort to get off his boots, but his strength had been ebbing for some time.  His sons dared not interfere as the old man leaned slowly over and strove to tug the boot from his wounded leg; but Bull remembered, all in a flood of tenderness, some half-dozen small, kind things that his uncle had said to him.

That was long, long ago, when the orphan came into the Campbell family.  In those days his stupidity had been attributed largely to the speed with which he had grown, and he was expected to become normally bright later on; and in those days Bill Campbell occasionally let fall some gentle word to the great boy with his big, frightened eyes.  And the half-dozen instances came back to Bull in this moment.

He stepped between his cousins and laid his hand on the foot of his uncle.  It brought a snarl from the old man, a snarl that made Bull straighten and step back, but he came again and put aside the shaking hand of Uncle Bill.  His cousins stood at one side, literally quaking.  It was the first time that they had actually seen their father defied.  They saw the huge hand of Bull settle around the leg of their father, well below the wound and then the grip closed to avoid the danger of opening the wound when the boot was worked off.  After this he pulled the tight riding boot slowly from the swollen foot.