In the smallest fraction of a second Maudlin was sprawling on the ground, and Theodore was soundly kicking him. Jinnie sank down on the damp moss and began to cry weakly. Her face was scratched from the man’s fingers, her head aching from the strenuous pulling of her hair. Then she covered her eyes with her hands. God had sent an angel—she was saved! When Mr. King touched her gently, she sat up, wiping away little streams of blood running down her face and neck.
“Oh, you came,” she sobbed, raising her head, “and oh, I needed you so!”
Theodore lifted her to her feet.
“I should say you did, you poor child! I should certainly think you did.”
Then he turned to Maudlin Bates.
“What, in God’s name, were you trying to do?”
Maudlin, raging with anger, scrambled from the ground.
“Get out o’ here,” he hissed, “an’ mind your own business.”
“When I keep a bully away from a nice little girl, I’m minding my business all right.... What was he trying to do, Jinnie?”
Maudlin walked backward until he was almost in the brush.