Though he heard the command to stop, and did actually break the force of his blow in consequence, nevertheless he struck so hard that Jacob Simmons, for that was the name of the new comer, thought for a time that his leg was broken. Notwithstanding this, he made sure of his assailant, and held him in an iron grasp.
Jacob was fairly taken aback at first as the two boys rushed out upon him, but Tim's well aimed club speedily brought him to his senses, and aroused his temper as well. He consequently fell upon his assailant like a madman, and choked him till he cried piteously for quarter.
"What does this mean?" demanded Jacob angrily, at the same time enforcing his demand by shaking his prisoner as a terrier might shake a rat.
"I do—don—don't know," replied the boy, as he, with much difficulty, forced breath enough through the grasp of the strong man's hand around his throat to speak at all.
"Don't, eh?" echoed Mr. Simmons, with another shake, given, probably, with the view of bringing Tim back to his senses.
"It was a mistake—oh, don't; you will cho—choke me to death."
"Well, then, tell me all about this business, and why you assaulted me in this outrageous manner."
"We didn't know it was you. We thought——"
"The truth, mind you, now."
"I am telling the truth, and I say we thought you were some one else."