CHAPTER I.
THE YOUNG CHAMPION.
One warm summer afternoon, a half dozen boys on their way home from the Burkville School, stopped to rest under the trees, which afforded a grateful shade at the side of the dusty highway.
No matter how tired such a lot of youngsters may be, they are sure to be brimming over with mischief, and on the alert for boisterous amusement. To picture them seated quiet, thoughtful and well behaved is to picture what was never seen. No such an occurrence is on record or within the memory of the “oldest inhabitant.”
Among the group who reclined on the grass was little Almon Goodwin, a cripple, with a withered leg, which compelled him to use a crutch in walking and debarred him from the more active sports of his playfellows. His sunny disposition, genial nature and scholarly ability made him a favorite with the rest, who were always glad to favor him and to accept playful annoyances at his hands which would have been quickly resented on the part of the other lusty youths.
The largest boy of the group was Buck Kennon, a new pupil, whose folks had lately removed to the neighborhood. He was two years older than the eldest of the party, and in growth and appearance seemed to be fully sixteen years of age. He was a rough, coarse, overbearing lad, who was feared and disliked by the rest. Three of the boys, who resisted his tyrannous conduct, had been beaten into submission, and every one felt that a most disagreeable and unwelcome member had joined the school. They would have been glad to be rid of him, but there he was and likely to stay with all his detested qualities.
The party had been lolling on the grass in the shade for some minutes, when Buck snatched off the hat of the crippled boy and dashed off with it. Almon hobbled after him, but of course could not overtake his persecutor.
“That isn’t fair; let me have my hat,” called Almon, halting in his pursuit; “why don’t you take some one else’s hat?”
The bully, seeing he was not pursued, now picked up a stone, flung the hat aloft and as it turned to descend, let fly with the stone, which was aimed so well that it passed through the crown, leaving a jagged hole. The owner crooked his arm and raised it to his face. His parents were poor and he could not help crying over the damage done to his property.
“Oh, what a baby!” called Buck, making ready to fling the hat up again for another shot; “I ’spose your mother will give you a whipping for not taking care of that purty head piece.”