e never would have thought of
doubting the importance of his mission. He was rather honored by the
trust reposed in him, and was only intent upon earning a look or word of
scant approval from the superb personage whom he worshipped.

Halvor Reitan, the chief of the East-Siders, was a big, burly peasant
lad, with a pimpled face, fierce blue eyes, and a shock of towy hair.
But he had muscles as hard as twisted ropes, and sinews like steel.

He had the reputation, of which he was very proud, of being the
strongest boy in the valley, and though he was scarcely sixteen years
old, he boasted that he could whip many a one of twice his years. He
had, in fact, been so praised for his strength that he never neglected
to accept, or even to create, opportunities for displaying it.

His manner was that of a bully; but it was vanity and not malice which
made him always spoil for a fight. He and Viggo Hook had attended
the parson's "Confirmation Class," together, and it was there their
hostility had commenced.

Halvor, who conceived a dislike of the tall, rather dainty, and
disdainful Viggo, with his aquiline nose and clear, aristocratic
features, determined, as he expressed it, to take him down a peg or two;
and the more his challenges were ignored the more persistent he grew in
his insults.

He dubbed Viggo "Missy." He ran against him with such violence in the
hall that he knocked his head against the wainscoting; he tripped him up
on the stairs by means of canes and sticks; and he hired his partisans
who sat behind Viggo to stick pins into him, while he recited his
lessons. And when all these provocations proved unavailing he determined
to dispense with any pretext, but simply thrash his enemy within an inch
of his life at the first opportunity which presented itself. He grew to
hate Viggo and was always aching to molest him.

Halvor saw plainly enough that Viggo despised him, and refused to notice
his challenges, not so much because he was afraid of him, as because he
regarded himself as a superior being who could afford to ignore insults
from an inferior, without loss of dignity.

During recess the so-called "genteel boys," who had better clothes and
better manners than the peasant lads, separated themselves from the
rest, and conversed or played with each other. No one will wonder
that such behavior was exasperating to the poorer boys. I am far from
defending Viggo's behavior in this instance. He was here, as everywhere,