It was in this frame of mind that he reached home.

Herbert had just entered the kitchen with an armful of wood for the housekeeper, and having thrown down his burden, was about to go back, when, on turning, he confronted the stormy and wrathful face of his employer.

“He’s found out,” Herbert concluded at once, and he braced his nerves for the storm which he knew must come.

“Well, young man, I’ve an account to settle with you,” said Abner, abruptly.

Herbert did not reply, but waited for Mr. Holden to state the matter.  But in Abner’s present angry condition, he chose to construe his silence into cause of offense.

“Why don’t you speak?” he said.  “What do you mean by looking me impudently in the face?”

“I have no intention of being impudent,” said Herbert.  “I think you are mistaken, Mr. Holden.”

“Do you dare to tell me I am mistaken?” roared Holden, lashing himself into a rage.

“I don’t mean to do or say anything that is not perfectly respectful,” said Herbert, manfully, looking steadily in his employer’s face.

“Why did you tell a pack of lies about my horse this morning, and so make me lose my trade?”

“I didn’t tell a pack of lies,” said Herbert.

“Didn’t you tell the man who came here that he was an ill-tempered brute, and blind of one eye?”

Abner Holden glared upon the boy as if he wanted to spring upon him, and give him a thrashing on the spot.

“I told him that Spitfire was not suitable for a family horse.”

“What did you tell him that for?”

“Because it was true.”

“Supposing it was true, didn’t you know that you were spoiling my trade?”

“I am sorry for that, Mr. Holden, but if he had bought the horse, supposing it to be gentle, it might have broken his wife’s neck.”

“What business was that of yours?  That was his lookout.”

“I didn’t look upon it in that way.  I thought he ought to buy the horse with his eyes open.”

“You did, did you?” roared Abner.  “Then I advise you to open your own eyes, for you’re going to get one of the worst lickings you ever had.”

Abner Holden’s anger now reached an ungovernable pitch.  Looking about him for a weapon, he espied the broom resting against the wall.  He seized it, and with a scream of rage, made for Herbert, shaking off the grasp of the housekeeper, who tried to stay him.

Herbert, perceiving the peril in which he stood, ran round the table, which stood, with leaves open, in the middle of the floor.  Abner pursued him with headlong haste.

“Lord preserve us!  The man is mad!” ejaculated the housekeeper, trying to get out of the way.  But in this she was not successful.  The kitchen was small, and before she could guard against a collision, Abner had stumbled over Mrs. Bickford, and both came down together.  She uttered a succession of piercing shrieks, and, with a view of relieving Herbert, pretended that her life was in danger, grasping Abner by the hair and holding him fast.