avily across the shoulder with his stick.

If the gipsy lads imagined that the blows would cow Vane, and make him
an easy victim for the thrashing they had evidently set themselves to
administer, they were sadly mistaken. For uttering a cry of rage as the
second blow sent a pang through him, Vane dashed down his basket and
trowel, spun round and rushed at his second assailant, but only to
receive a severe blow across one wrist while another came again from
behind.

"You cowards!" roared Vane; "put down those sticks, or come in front."

The lads did neither, and finding in spite of his rage the necessity for
caution, Vane sprang to a tree, making it a comrade to defend his back,
and then struck out wildly at his assailants.

So far his efforts were in vain. Sticks reach farther than fists, and
his hands both received stinging blows, one on his right, numbing it for
the moment and making him pause to wonder what such an unheard-of attack
could mean.

Thoughts fly quickly at all times, but with the greatest swiftness in
emergencies, and as Vane now stood at bay he could see that these two
lads had been watching him for some time past, and that the attack had
only been delayed for want of opportunity.

"I always knew that gipsies could steal," he thought, "but only in a
little petty, pilfering way. This is highway robbery, and if I give
them all I've got they will let me go."

Then he considered what he had in his pockets--about seven shillings,
including the half-pence--and a nearly new pocket-knife. He was just
coming to the conclusion that he might just as well part with this
little bit of portable property and escape farther punishment, when one
of the boys made a feint at his head and brought his stick down with a
sounding crack, just above his left knee, while the other struck him on
the shoulder.

Vane's blood was up now, and forgetting all about compromising, he
dashed at one of his assailants, hitting out furiously, getting several
blows home, in spite of the stick, and the next minute would have torn
it from the young scoundrel's grasp if the other had not attacked him so
furiously behind that he had to turn and defend himself there.

This gave the boy he was beating time to recover himself, and once more
Vane was attacked behind and had to turn again.

All this was repeated several times, Vane getting far the worst of the
encounter, for the gipsy lads were as active as cats and wonderfully
skilful