copy of the little girl on the fire escape) would be
taken up downstairs, where a fight would not disturb poor, old Mr. Tom
Barber.

At that he fell to doing his exercises; first, the arm-movements--up,
down! up down! then the leg--out, back! out, back! adding a bend or two
of his sore body by way of good measure, and resolving to do better and
better along these lines every morning of his life from now on.

Mr. Perkins was the only person who was perfectly calm. He found his
coat and put it on; he adjusted his glasses. In fact, the scoutmaster,
returned unscathed from his battle, might have been taken as a model for
all victors. For he did not smile exultantly, did not swagger one step,
but was grave and modest. "Put on your hat, sweetheart," he said to Cis.
His voice was deep and tender.

At once there was hurry and bustle. Mrs. Kukor gave one prodigious
doll-rock which turned her square about, and she disappeared into the
tiny room, evidently to help with the packing. "Oh, but I'm all ready!"
declared Cis, following the little Jewish lady. "And, Father Pat, you
won't mind coming with us?" asked Mr. Perkins. "I'll do that with
pleasure," answered the priest, heartily.

Johnnie felt a touch on his arm. "Sonny!" One-Eye whispered. "Can't y'
hear somethin'? Listen!"

All listened. From the area below unmistakable cheers were rising, and
taunting shouts. They came booming through the kitchen window. Barber
was crossing the brick pavement to the door of the building, and his
neighbors were triumphing in his defeat.

Father Pat came to Johnnie. "Lad dear," he said, "tell me: as ye hear
'em yell at him, and all on account o' what he did t' Cis and yerself,
and because they're glad he's been whipped,--tell me, scout boy, how d'
ye feel towards him in yer own heart?"

"We-e-ell,--" began Johnnie; "we-e-ell--" and stopped. Countless times
he had punished Big Tom in his own way; and had looked ahead to the hour
when, grown-up, and the longshoreman's physical equal, he could measure
out to the latter punishment of a substantial kind. Yet now that Mr.
Perkins had done just this, where was the overwhelming satisfaction? He
was glad, of course, that Mr. Perkins had come out victor, and had not
been beaten as One-Eye had been beaten; but so far as he himself was
concerned, the truth was that Big Tom's mortification was dust in his
mouth, and ashes, though, somehow, he shrank from admitting it. "Well,
Father Pat," he added fa