Tom's right eye was swelling, and by the time he reached home it was closed. The bump on the side of his head was the size of a hen's egg. There was a long scratch down his cheek.
Sarah was kneeling before the fireplace, raking ashes over the potatoes that she had put in to bake. She jumped up in alarm.
"What's the matter? What happened?" she asked.
"It was like Pa said," Abe told her. "Mr. Carter is a skinflint."
Sarah took Tom by the arm and made him sit down on a stool. She touched the swollen eye with gentle fingers.
"It don't hurt much," he said.
"I reckon Mr. Carter hurts more," Abe spoke up again. "He has two black eyes."
Tom slapped his thigh and roared with laughter. "He sure does. But if it hadn't been for Abe—"
He stopped, embarrassed. Sarah was soaking a cloth in a basin of cold water. She laid it on his eye.