elight out of some of
'em."

The defiance of Lin, the thoughts of the cruelties practiced upon him,
or some other force, changed the boy's manner instantly from sobbing and
supplicating. He became screamingly aggressive. Flying to the roadbed,
which had a plentiful supply of loose stone on it, he began a fusillade
on the enemy below that drove the whole horde from the raft into the
river.

"Al-f-u-r-d" had practiced stone throwing since he wore clothes and,
like all boys of that period, his aim was most accurate, as several of
those in the old swimming hole on that eventful day will testify. A rain
of stones fell on the raft; one boy, more venturesome than the others,
started up the hill but "Al-f-u-r-d's" fire repulsed him.

Lin, hidden behind the house, had changed her manner and was now
pleading with "Al-f-u-r-d" to desist.

"Ye might crack some of their skulls and then they'd git out a warrant
and Rease Lynch (referring to the town constable), would be after ye."

"Al-f-u-r-d" left the line of battle only when exhausted. That first
swimming lesson and the fusillade of rocks that followed engendered
animosities that involved "Al-f-u-r-d" in many rough and tumble
encounters afterwards.

Lin, catching up the clothes the boy had dropped upon the ground, soon
discovered why he had not put them on. The sleeves of the waist were
dripping wet and tied in knots as tight as two big, strong boys could
pull them. The pantalets were first unraveled, reversed, pulled over the
sand-covered limbs of the boy, the waist wrapped about his shoulders,
(the knots in the sleeves could not be untied), his hat pushed down on
his head owing to the arrangement of his hair until it rested on his
ears.

The procession started homeward, up alleys, through back yards to
prevent being seen by the neighbors, until Lin hoisted the boy over the
fence at the lower end of the garden. The whole family had congregated
in the back yard, all greatly disturbed over "Al-f-u-r-d's" absence. As
he dropped into the garden from the top of the fence he began crying, as
was his wont, to create sympathy.

[Illustration: Lin and "Al-f-u-r-d"]

As he wended his way up the garden walk, the mother shouted:

"Lin, where on earth has he been?"

"In the river over his head. It's a wonder he wern't drowned to death."

The mother breathed a silent prayer that he had been preserved to them.
Father deftly slid his hand into his left side trouser's pocket and,