d her voice.

Her action and words had been so swift that Holcroft could not
interfere, but in an instant he was at her side, his arm around her,
his square jaw set, and his eyes blazing with his kindling anger. He
was not one of those men who fume early under provocation and in words
chiefly. His manner and gesture were so impressive that his tormentors
paused to listen.

"I know," he said quietly, "all about this old, rude custom--that it's
often little more than a rough lark. Well, now that you've had it,
leave at once. I'm in no mood for such attention from my neighbors.
This is my wife, and I'll break any man's head who says a word to hurt
her feelings--"

"Oh yes! Take care of her feelings, now it's your turn. They must 'a'
been hurt before," piped up Tim Weeks.

"Good for you, old man, for showin' us your poorhouse bride," said
another.

"We don't fancy such grass-widders, and much married, half-married
women in Oakville," yelled a third.

"Why didn't yer jump over a broomstick for a weddin' ceremony?" someone
else bawled.

These insults were fired almost in a volley. Alida felt Holcroft's arm
grow rigid for a second. "Go in, quick!" he said.

Then she saw him seize the hickory sapling he had leaned against the
house, and burst upon the group like a thunderbolt. Cries of pain,
yells, and oaths of rage rose above the rain of blows. The older
members of the crew sought to close upon him, but he sprung back, and
the tough sapling swept about him like a circle of light. It was a
terrific weapon in the hands of a strong man, now possessed of almost
giant strength in his rage. More than one fellow went down under its
stinging cut, and heads and faces were bleeding. The younger portion
of the crowd speedily took to their heels, and soon even the most
stubborn fled; the farmer vigorously assisting their ignominious
retreat with tremendous downward blows on any within reach. Tim Weeks
had managed to keep out of the way till they entered the lane; then,
taking a small stone from the fence, he hurled it at their pursuer and
attempted to jump over the wall. This was old, and gave way under him
in such a way that he fell on the other side. Holcroft leaped the
fence with a bound, but Tim, lying on his back, shrieked and held up
his hands, "You won't hit a feller when he's down!"

"No," said Holcroft, arresting his hickory. "I'll send you to jail, Tim
Weeks. That stone you fired cut my head. Was your