to the stove, where I found that my
fire was not doing very well, for my interest in the letter had caused
me to neglect it. I put on some more kindlings, and then knelt down on
the hearth to blow up the fire with my breath. Captain Fishley and the
squire had left the store, and Ham and I were alone. I heard my youngest
tyrant come from behind the counter; but I did not think anything of
it. While I was kneeling on the hearth, and blowing up the failing
embers with all my might, Ham came up behind me, with a cowhide in his
hand, taken from a lot for sale, and before I suspected any treachery on
his part, or had time to defend myself, he struck me three heavy blows,
each of which left a mark that remained for more than a week.

I sprang to my feet; but the wretch had leaped over the counter, and
fortified himself behind it. He looked as ugly as sin itself; but I
could see that he was not without a presentiment of the consequences of
his rash act. I do not profess to be an angel in the quality of my
temper, and I was as mad as a boy of fifteen could be. I made a spring
at him, and was going over the counter in a flying leap, when he gave me
a tremendous cut across the shoulder.

"Hold on there, Buck Bradford!" called he, as he pushed me back with his
left hand. "We are square now."

"No, we are not," I replied, taking a cowhide from a bundle of them on a
barrel. "We have a new account to settle now."

"We are just even for what you gave me last night," said he.

"Not yet," I added, leaping over the counter in another place; and,
rushing upon him, I brought my weapon to bear upon his shoulders.

"What are you about, you villain?" demanded Captain Fishley, returning
to the store at this moment.

He seized me by the collar, and being a powerful man, he wrested the
cowhide from my grasp, and before I could make any successful
demonstration, he laid the weapon about my legs, till they were in no
better condition than I had left Ham's the evening before.

"I'll teach you to strike my son!" said he, breathless with excitement.

"He struck me," I flouted.

"No matter if he did; you deserved it. Now go to the barn, and harness
the horse."

I saw the squire coming into the store. I was overpowered; and, with my
legs stinging with pain, I went to the barn.

CHAPTER IX.

THE HUNGRY RUNAWAY.

I went to the barn, but not to obey the order of Captain Fishley. I was
as ugly as Ham himself, and anything more than