At the close of school, the tow-head whispered:
"Come by the spring with me, I want to show you somethin'!"
"Let Sarah go on an' we'll catch her--I got a funny trick ter show you. You'll kill yourself a-laughin'."
The Boy's curiosity was aroused and he consented.
They hastened to the spring where the embers of a fire at which the scholars were accustomed to warm their lunch, were still smouldering. The tow-headed one drew from the corner of the fence a turtle which he had captured and tied, scooped a red-hot coal from the fire with a piece of board and placed it on the turtle's back.
The poor creature, tortured by the burning coal, started in a scramble trying to run from the fire. The tow-head roared with laughter.
The Boy flushed with sudden rage, sprang forward and knocked the coal off.
"You do that again an' I'll knock you down!" shouted the bully.
"You do it again and I'll knock you down," was the sturdy answer.
"You will, will you?" the tow-head cried with scorn. "Well, I'll show you."
The Boy knocked it off and pounced on him.
The fight was brief. They had scarcely touched the ground before the Boy was on top pounding with both his little, clinched fists.
"Stop it--you're killin' me!" the under one screamed.
"Will you let him alone?" the Boy hissed.
"You're killin' me, I tell ye!" the tow-head yelled in terror. "Stop it I say--would you kill a feller just for a doggoned old cooter?"
The Boy slowly rose. The tow-head leaped to his feet and with a look of terror started on a run.
"You needn't run, I won't hit ye again!" the Boy cried.
But the legs only moved faster. Never since he was born did the Boy see a pair of legs get over the ground like that. He sat down and laughed and then hurried on to join Sarah.
He didn't tell his sister what had happened. His mother mustn't know that he had been in a fight. But when he felt the touch of her hand on his forehead that night as he rose from her knee he couldn't bear the thought of deceiving her again and so he confessed.
"It wasn't wrong, was it, to fight for a thing like that?" he asked wistfully.
"No," came the answer. "He needed a thrashing--the little scoundrel, and I'm glad you did it."
The school flickered out in five weeks and the following summer another lasted for six weeks.