I was not over-sensitive, but these remarks, which generally reached my ears sooner or later, made me very angry.  What right had people to look down on my sister and myself?  It was not fair to Kate and me, and I proposed to stand it no longer.

It was a lovely morning in September, but I was in no mood to enjoy the bright sunshine and clear air that flooded the orchard.  I had just come from the depot with the mail for Mrs. Canby, and down there I had heard two men pass opinions on my father’s case that were not only uncharitable but unjust.

I was therefore in no frame of mind to put up with Duncan Woodward’s actions, and when he spoke of giving me a good drubbing I prepared to defend myself.

“Two can play at that game, Duncan,” I replied.

“Ho! ho!  Do you mean to say you can stand up against me?” he asked derisively.

“I can try,” I returned stoutly.  “I’m sure now that you have no business here.”

“Why, you miserable little thief—­”

“Stop that!  I’m no thief, if you please.”

“Well, you’re the son of one, and that’s the same thing.”

“My father is innocent, and I won’t allow any one, big or little, to call him a thief,” I burst out.  “Some day he will be cleared.”

“Not much!” laughed Duncan.  “My father knows all about the case.  I can tell you that.”

“Then perhaps he knows where the money went to,” I replied quickly.  “I know he was very intimate with my father at that time.”

Had I stopped to think I would not have spoken as I did.  My remark made the young man furious, and I had hardly spoken before Duncan hit me a stinging blow on the forehead, and, springing upon me, bore me to the ground.

CHAPTER II

 An assault on the road

I knew Duncan Woodward would not hesitate to attack me.  He was a much larger fellow than myself, and always ready to fight any one he thought he could whip.

Yet I was not prepared for the sudden onslaught that had been made.  Had I been, I might have parried his blow.

But I did not intend to be subdued as easily as he imagined.  The blow on my forehead pained not a little, and it made me mad “clear through.”

“Get off of me!” I cried, as Duncan brought his full weight down upon my chest.

“Not much!  Not until you promise to keep quiet about this affair,” he replied.

“If you don’t get off, you’ll be mighty sorry;” was my reply, as I squirmed around in an effort to throw him aside.

Suddenly he caught me by the ear, and gave that member a twist that caused me to cry out with pain.

“Now will you do as I say?” he demanded.

“No”

Again he caught my ear.  But now I was ready for him.  It was useless to try to shake him off.  He was too heavy and powerful for that.  So I brought a small, but effective weapon into play.  The weapon was nothing more than a pin that held together a rent in my trousers made the day previous.  Without hesitation I pulled it out and ran it a good half-inch into his leg.