Rod said nothing at home about the incident at the school.  He was afraid that Parson Dan and Mrs. Royal would be angry if they learned that he had been fighting, especially with Sammie Dunker.  And, besides, if he told he would have to explain what had led him into the affray, and he did not wish to tell that he had taken Nancy’s part.  It would seem too much like boasting, and he had always disliked boasters who figured in some stories Mrs. Royal had read to him.

Next morning as he walked along the road to school carrying his lunch-basket, he was in a different mood from the previous day.  Then he had the feeling of a soldier, with nerves high strung going into battle; now he was the victor, with the danger past and trouble over.  He believed that Sammie would not bother him again, and that the little girls would look up to him as their natural protector.

He was thinking of these things as he drew near the store.  Behind him lumbered a large wagon, drawn by two horses.  Tom Dunker, big and burly, held the reins, and as he caught sight of the little boy ahead, a scowl overspread his heavy face.  Sammie had given his version of the fight in which Rod was entirely in the wrong.  This his parents believed, and, accordingly, were very angry.  So as Tom now beheld Rod, he thought it would be a smart thing to give him a great scare.

Rod was walking at one side of the road, and just as the horses’ heads were abreast of him, Tom drew them sharply to the left, at the same time yelling at the boy to get out of the way.

Taken by surprise, Rod sprang into the ditch for safety, dropping his basket in his fright, which rolled beneath the horses’ feet.  This so startled the nervous animals that they leaped quickly forward, and swerved to the right, thus bringing the hind wheel of the wagon against the sharp ends of a pile of cordwood near the road.  There was a crash as two of the spokes were ripped from the hub by the impact, while the wood came tumbling down into the road.

With much difficulty Tom checked the horses, and then wild with rage, he turned upon the innocent lad, charging him with having frightened his team.

“I didn’t,” Rod sturdily replied, coming close to the wagon, his eyes flaming with indignation.  “You tried to drive over me, that’s what you did.”

“How dare ye answer me!” Tom cried, white with wrath.  “Ye young villain, ye’re nothin’ but a pauper, an’ should be in the Poor House, instead of livin’ with decent people.  Ye don’t know who yer father an’ mother are, do ye?  An’ no one else does, fer that matter.  Ye wouldn’t own ’em if ye did.”

Rod stood for an instant as if turned to stone.  The flush left his cheeks, and his face grew very white.  Then his small brown hands clenched hard, and he took a step closer to the wagon.

“You lie!” he shouted.  “How dare you say that!”

With a roar Tom clutched the handle of his whip, and the lash suddenly cut the air with a swish.  It circled Rod’s shoulders, sharply flicking his face, leaving a crimson streak upon the white left cheek.