glowed with anger. They searched the face of the boy. His
voice was deep and solemn when he said:

"This is a serious matter. Why do you wish to keep it a secret?"

The boy blushed. For a moment he knew not what to say. Then he spoke: "It
ain't me so much--it's her," he managed to say. "She wouldn't want it to
be talked about and I don't either."

Samson began to understand. "She's quite a girl I guess," he said
thoughtfully. "She must have the nerve of a man--I declare she must."

"Yes-sir-ee! They'd 'a' got hurt if they hadn't gone away, that's sure,"
said Harry.

"We'll look out for them after this," Samson rejoined. "The first time
I meet that man McNoll he'll have to settle with me and he'll pay cash on
the nail."

Bim having heard of Harry's part in Abe's fight and of the fact that he
was to be working alone all day at the new house had ridden out through
the woods to the open prairie and hunted in sight of the new cabin that
afternoon. Unwilling to confess her extreme interest in the boy she had
said not a word of her brave act. It was not shame; it was partly a kind
of rebellion against the tyranny of youthful ardor; it was partly the
fear of ridicule.

So it happened that the adventure of Harry Needles made scarcely a ripple
on the sensitive surface of the village life. It will be seen, however,
that it had started strong undercurrents likely, in time, to make
themselves felt.

The house and barn were finished whereupon Samson and Harry drove to
Springfield--a muddy, crude and growing village with thick woods on its
north side--and bought furniture. Their wagon was loaded and they were
ready to start for home. They were walking on the main street when Harry
touched Samson's arm and whispered:

"There's McNoll and Callyhan."

The pair were walking a few steps ahead of Samson and Harry. In a second
Samson's big hand was on McNoll's shoulder.

"This is Mr. McNoll, I believe," said Samson.

The other turned with a scared look.

"What do ye want o' me?" he demanded.

Samson threw him to the ground with a jerk so strong and violent that it
rent the sleeve from his shoulder. McNoll's companion who had felt the
weight of Samson's hand and had had enough of it turned and ran.

"What do ye want o' me?" McNoll asked again as he struggled to free
himself.

"What do I want o' you--you puny little coward," said Samson, as he
lifted the bully to his feet and gave him a toss and swung him in the air
and co