"Won't have anything to do with me, eh?" gloated Ole. "Think you are too good for us! I been watching you, asking about you. None of the boys have had you ... but you won't get by me!"
Henry felt a surge of sympathy for her, fed by his dislike for the other. He slipped into the path. He was almost up to them before he was seen. Ole swung about, still holding the girl. Henry stopped six feet off.
"Why don't you let her alone if she doesn't want you?" he asked with deceiving mildness, apparently relaxed.
There was startled fright in Ole's eyes. Henry had appeared so suddenly, from nowhere. Worse, he was proscribed. He was accused of learning witchery.
Henry was taller than Ole, but thin and almost weak looking. This would be something to boast about: capturing the witch singlehanded, bringing him in for punishment!
"Make me let her alone, then!" he challenged.
It was usual to boast and strut before fighting. Henry took the advantage of immediate attack. He sprang at the other, catching him before he unhanded the girl, with a right to the jaw, a left to the belly.
Theta ran about fifty feet down the path, then turned to watch. Ole, head down, was closing in to grip his opponent, but Henry stepped to one side, coming up with a blow to Ole's right eye. Ole raised his guard and Henry sank both fists into the other's stomach.
Ole doubled up.
There was no fight in him. He plunged past Henry, down the path towards the tavern. Henry faced the girl. She came towards him without hesitation.