"Get up!" commanded the lad. "Perhaps this may teach you a lesson to mind your own business in the future, and—"
But Tad was interrupted by a howl from the spectators. They broke out into cheers for the plucky lad who had downed the bully of two counties. As quickly as his maimed condition would permit Smoky mounted and galloped away, trusting to his pony to find the way, for Smoky's eyes were swollen nearly shut.
Tad Butler had destroyed forever the power of the bully to terrorize Hunt's Corners.
[CHAPTER VII]
ON THE WAY TO SMOKY BALD
"The crowd always goes with the upper dog," nodded Rector, as the mountaineers crowded about Tad to congratulate him on his plucky fight. But Tad was too much interested in rescuing the letter to his mother to give heed to the men who clamored to tell him what a brave boy he was.
There were a few among the mountaineers, however, whose faces were dark and threatening. These did not offer their congratulations. They were men who, for reasons best known to themselves, sympathized with Smoky Griffin, but who had not dared to go to his assistance with the ready revolvers of Ned Rector and Chunky Brown so plainly in evidence.
"Come in here and help yourself to anything in my store," shouted Jim Abs from the doorway. "Any galoot that can fit like that without turnin' a hair is welcome to anything that Jim Abs's got. Come right along in, all the rest of you strangers. Hi, men, if them ponies want to drink don't let 'em suffer."
"Thank you," smiled Butler. "There is nothing that I can think of that would make me any happier than a glass of water, if I might trouble you."
"Shore, little pardner. Want a bit of lemon in it?"