father in that
crowd?"

"No-o-o!" blubbered Tim.

"If he was, I'd follow him home and whip him in his own house. Now,
clear out, and tell the rest of your rowdy crew that I'll shoot the
first one of you that disturbs me again. I'll send the constable for
you, and maybe for some of the others."

Dire was the dismay, and dreadful the groaning in Oakville that night.
Never before had salves and poultices been in such demand. Not a few
would be disfigured for weeks, and wherever Holcroft's blows had fallen
welts arose like whipcords. In Lemuel Weeks' dwelling the
consternation reached its climax. Tim, bruised from his fall, limped
in and told his portentous story. In his spite, he added, "I don't
care, I hit him hard. His face was all bloody."

"All bloody!" groaned his father. "Lord 'a mercy! He can send you to
jail, sure enough!"

Then Mrs. Weeks sat down and wailed aloud.

Chapter XXVI.

"You Don't Know."

As Timothy Weeks limped hastily away, Holcroft, with a strong revulsion
of feeling, thought of Alida. HE had been able to answer insults in a
way eminently satisfactory to himself, and every blow had relieved his
electrical condition. But how about the poor woman who had received
worse blows than he had inflicted? As he hastened toward the house he
recalled a dim impression of seeing her sink down on the doorstep.
Then he remembered her effort to face the marauders alone. "She said
she was to blame, poor child! As if there were any blame at all! She
said, 'spare him,' as if I was facing a band of murderers instead of a
lot of neighborhood scamps, and that she'd go away. I'd fight all
Oakville--men, women, and children--before I'd permit that," and he
started on a run.

He found Alida on the step, where she had sunk as if struck down by the
rough epithets hurled at her. She was sobbing violently, almost
hysterically, and at first could not reply to his soothing words. He
lifted her up, and half carried her within to a chair. "Oh, oh," she
cried, "why did I not realize it more fully before? Selfish woman that
I was, to marry you and bring on you all this shame and danger. I
should have thought of it all, I ought to have died rather than do you
such a wrong."

"Alida, Alida," protested Holcroft, "if it were all to do over again,
I'd be a thousand times more--"

"Oh, I know, I know! You are brave and generous and honest. I saw
that much when you first spoke to me. I yielded to the temp