were three against one, and the one was a match for them. He was
slender and strong, holding his ground and making no noise. He was
coatless and ragged shirted, and one sleeve of his shirt was torn, so
that you could see how thin his shoulder was. He held his head high, and
smiled as he fought. A shock of blond hair was tossed high above his
forehead. He had a thin, white face, and dark jewels of flashing eyes.
As she stood and looked, they met Judith's eyes, and Judith knew that
she had never seen a boy like this, because there was no boy like
this--no little boy so wild and strange and free, so ragged and brave.
If he could come out of the dark, it was full of unguessable things,
splendid and strange and new. Judith's heart beat hard, a hot feeling
swept over her, and a queer mist came before her eyes. A wonderful boy;
a fairy boy! What would they do to him? What did they do to paddies?
There was no little boy like this in the world.

"Judy!" The others had seen her and were calling her. "Come on. Help get
him down."

"He chased Willard round here."

"He led the gang last year."

"It's Neil Donovan."

"Get him down!"

Judith did not answer then. Her cheeks flamed red, and her eyes looked
as big and dark as the stranger's, and her small hands clenched tight.
It was only a minute that she stood so. The three were close to him,
hiding him. She saw his face again, above Willard's pushing shoulder,
and then--she could not see it.

"Judy, what's the matter? Come on!"

And Judith came. She plunged straight into the struggling group, and
hammered at it indiscriminately with two small fists. She caught at a
waving coat sleeve, and pulled it--Willard's, and it tore in her hands.
She spotted Eds white sweater, and beat at it fiercely, with all her
strength.

"That's me, Judy. Cut it out!"

"Then let him go. Three to one is no fair. Let him go!" They did not
hear her, or care which side she was on, or take the trouble to drive
her away. Judith drew back and stood and looked at them, breathless and
glowing and undefeated, for one long minute.

"Boy," she called then, softly, as if he could hear when the others
could not, "wait! It's all right, boy. It's all right."

Then she charged up the steps at Rena. Judy, the most demure and
faithful of allies, confronted Rena, amazingly but unmistakably changed
to a foe; Judy, with her immaculate and enviable frock smirched and
torn, and her sleek hair wildly tossed, her chee