out of the house.

"What's the matter, my darling?" she cried in alarm.

"Bill knocked me down with a hoe, and I think I'm going to die!"
answered Andrew with a fresh burst of anguish.

Mrs. Badger was almost paralyzed with astonishment and wrath. She could
hardly believe her ears. What! Her Andrew assaulted by a beggarly bound
boy!

"Bill knocked you down with a hoe?" she repeated. "You don't mean it?"

"Yes, I do. Ask him if he didn't."

"Bill Benton," said Mrs. Badger in an awful voice, "did you strike
Andrew with a hoe?"

"Yes, ma'am, and I'm sorry for it, but he struck me with a whip first."

"No doubt he had a good reason for doing it. And so you tried to murder
him, you young ruffian?"

"No, I didn't, Mrs. Badger. He had no right to whip me, and I defended
myself. But I'm sorry----"

Andrew set up another howl, though he no longer felt any pain, and his
mother's wrath increased.

"You'll end your life on the gallows, you young brute!" she exclaimed,
glaring wrathfully at the poor boy. "Some night you'll try to murder us
all in our beds. The only place for you is in jail! When Mr. Badger
comes home, I will report the case to him. Now, go to work."

Poor Bill was glad to get away from the infuriated woman.

Andrew was taken into the house and fed on preserves and sweetmeats by
his doting mother, while the poor bound boy was toiling in the hot sun,
dreading the return of his stern master.

Nathan Badger was not far away. He had driven to the village in the
buggy, not that he had any particular business there, but at present
there was no farm work of a pressing nature except what the bound boy
could do, and Mr. Badger did not love work for its own sake.

In spite of his parsimony, he generally indulged himself in a glass of
bitters, of which he was very fond, whenever he went to the village. His
parsimony stood him in good stead in one respect, at least, for it
prevented his becoming a drunkard.

I have said that Mr. Badger had no particular business at the village,
but this is not strictly true. He had business at the post office.

Some time since he had written to Mr. Waldo, asking for a money
allowance for the care of Bill Benton. He knew very well that he was not
entitled to it. He was at no expense for the boy's clothes, and
certainly Bill richly earned the very frugal fare, of which he partook
sparingly, and the privilege of a hard bed in the attic. But it had
struck him as possible that M