ng to the door and standing
with her back against it. "Would you do such a thing as that?"

"I would to d'fend myself," said Fandy, stoutly. "Don't hunters kill
tigers?"

"But this isn't a tiger, nor even a wild-cat. It's tame. It's our Nan!"

"Let him go try," spoke up Donald. "He'll get the worst of it."

"Indeed I'll not let him try, either," cried Dorry, still holding her
position.

But Fandy already was beginning to cool down. Second thoughts came to
his rescue.

"I don't believe in hurtin' tame animals," said he. "It's naughty," and
the foil and mask were laid carefully upon the table.

"Who taught you to fight with these things?" he asked Donald in an
off-hand way, as though he and Don were about equal in skill, with the
great difference that his own power came to him by nature, while
Donald's undoubtedly was the result of severe teaching.

"Professor Valerio."

"Oh, did he? I've heard 'Manda talk about _him_. She says he's
the--the--somethingest man in the village. I forget now what she called
him. What's those things?" Here the visitor pointed to Don's
boxing-gloves.

At any other time Don would have taken them from the wall and explained
their use, but it was nearly three o'clock, and this was his
fencing-lesson day. So he merely said, "They're boxing-gloves."

"Do you _wear_ 'em?" asked Fandy, looking in a puzzled way, first at the
huge things, then at Donald's hands, as if comparing the sizes.

"Yes, when I'm boxing," returned Donald.

"What will you do about your fencing-lesson, Don?" said Dorry. "Do you
think Uncle will let you go? We're prisoners, you know."

"Of course he will," replied Donald, taking his hat (he had a mask and
foil at the professor's) and preparing to start. "I'm to call for Ed
Tyler at three. We'll have rare times to-day; two fellows from town are
to be there,--prime fencers, both of them,--and we are to have a fencing
match."

[Illustration: THE FENCING-MASTER.]

"You'll win," said Dorry. "You always do. Ed Tyler says you are the
finest fencer he ever saw, excepting Professor Valerio, and he says you
beat even the professor sometimes."

"Nonsense!" said Donald, severely, though his face betrayed his
pleasure. "Ed Tyler himself's a match for any one."

"What a mutual-admiration society you two are!"

Dorry said this so good-naturedly that Donald could not resent it, and
_his_ good-nature made her add:

"Well, I don't care. You're _both_ splendid, if I do say i