"You don't go until you promise me not to say anything to
your father."
"I won't promise!" Hot tears filled her eyes.
"Then you don't go," and Bob tightened his grip.
The next moment a hand clutched his coat collar and he was thrown
violently on his back.
Bob, who was agile, was quickly on his feet again and faced his
assailant. "Oh, that's you, Sawyer, is it? Why do you interfere with
what's none of your business?"
"I think it is," said Quincy, calmly. "My, friend and I--" He turned,
and at that moment Tom emerged from behind a clump of bushes at the
roadside.
"My friend and I," Quincy repeated, "were behind those bushes and
overheard your insulting language to this young lady and your brutal
treatment of her."
"Hiding to see what you could hear," said Bob, sneeringly.
"Not at all. We came 'cross lots and were just stepping into the road
when we espied you, and retreated, awaiting your departure."
"Very prettily said, Master Sawyer, but I don't believe a word of
it."
"You called this young lady a liar and she was powerless to resent
it, but I'm not. Tom, hold my coat."
"Oh, please don't fight," pleaded Mary. "I'll never speak to him
again."
"Say, Quincy," exclaimed Tom, "he's too heavily built for you. Let me
tackle him."
"Two to one! I s'pose that's what you city snobs call fair play."
Bob removed his coat and threw it on the ground.
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