"And what's to be done about your poor mother?" said Mr. Jones, when he had heard the story. "I shall have to have you up for this. It will go nigh to kill her."
Joe made no answer, only looked more sullen and obstinate than ever.
"Mr. Jones," said Maggie, in a weak little voice, "please take him away; it frightens me to see him."
"I'm going to take him right off where he wont trouble you for one while," said Mr. Jones. "But how is it that you are afraid of him just standing here, and you weren't afraid of him when he was handling you and Bessie so rough?"
"I didn't think about that," said Maggie, "and if I had, I couldn't let anybody do anything to my Bessie. I thought he was going to kill her. Oh, dear! oh, dear!" and Maggie began to cry again; she could not have told why, except that she could not help it.
"Come along," said Mr. Jones, taking hold of Joe's arm.
"Mr. Jones," said Bessie, "are you going to take him to the jail?"
"I am going to take him to the squire, and I guess he'll give him a few days of it. Serve him right too."
"But I'm 'fraid it will break his mother's heart," said Bessie; "Mrs. Jones said it would."