weight enough to knock down
his foe, but as Tom staggered, John leaped aside and felt the joy of
battle as he got in a blow under the ear and Tom fell.

"Get on him--hit him," cried the boys. "By George, if he ain't licked!"

John stood still. Tom rose, and as he made a furious rush at the victor,
a loud voice called out, "Halloa! quit that."

Both boys stood still as Mark Rivers climbed over the fence and stood
between them. John was not sorry for the interruption. He was well aware
that in the rough and tumble of a close he had not weight enough to
encounter what would have lost him the fight he had so far won. He stood
still panting, smiling, and happy.

"Hadn't you boys better shake hands?" said the rector. Tom, furious, was
collecting blood from his nose on his handkerchief. Neither boy spoke.
"Well, John," said Rivers waiting.

"I'll shake hands, sir, when Tom apologizes."

The rector smiled. Apologies were hardly understood as endings to village
fights. "He won't do it," said John with a glance at the swollen face;
"another time I'll make him."

"Will you!" exclaimed Tom.

The rector felt that on the whole it might have been better had they
fought it out. Now the peacemaking business was clearly not blessed. "You
are a nice pair of young Christians," he said. "At all events, you shall
not fight any more to-day. Come, John."

The boy put on his jacket and went away with Rivers, who asked presently
what was this about. "Mr. Rivers, soon after I came that fellow was rough
to Leila; I hit him, and he beat me like--like a dog."

"And you let all these suns go down upon your wrath?"

"There wasn't any wrath, sir. He wouldn't apologize to Leila; he wouldn't
do it."

"Oh! indeed."

"Then he said something to-day about Uncle Jim."

"Anything else?"

"Yes, he made it pretty clear that he thought me a liar."

"Well, but you knew you were not."

"Yes, sir, but he didn't appear to know."

"Do you think you convinced him?"

"No, sir, but I feel better."

"Ah! is that so? Morally better, John?" and he laughed as he bade him
good-bye.

The lad who left him was tired, but entirely satisfied with John
Penhallow. He went to the stable and had a technical talk with the
English groom, who deeply regretted not to have seen the fight.

There being no riding or swimming to fill the time, he took a net, some
tackle and a bucket, and went down to the river and netted a
"hellbender." He put him in a bucket of