[ CHAPTER XI]
THE ROUTING OF BIG MIKE
Although Bob was, as it seemed, so callous to Ned’s black eye, not so with the other members of the household.
Filled with recipes from his friends, for changing a black eye to normal white, Ned returned home, and unseen save by Bob, gained his room. He put in an anxious half hour experimenting; but at the end his eye seemed blacker than ever—a dense, deep, wicked black. It seemed to Ned that there was nothing to his face but that black eye; and assuming a manner of unconcern he descended the stairs and went about his chores.
“N-Ned!” gasped his mother, meeting him in the kitchen. Maggie, the girl, giggled. Ned dropped his armful of wood into the wood-box with the usual crash, and answered, mildly, keeping his head down while he pretended to arrange some of the sticks.
“Yes, ma’am?”
“Look up here.”
Ned obeyed, trying to present only his white side.
“Why, what in the world have you been doing? Is that a bruise around your eye, or is it dirt?”
“Bruise, I guess,” responded Ned, shuffling his feet uneasily.