The Boy slowly rose. The tow-head leaped to his feet and with a look of terror started on a run.
"You needn't run, I won't hit ye again!" the Boy cried.
But the legs only moved faster. Never since he was born did the Boy see a pair of legs get over the ground like that. He sat down and laughed and then hurried on to join Sarah.
He didn't tell his sister what had happened. His mother mustn't know that he had been in a fight. But when he felt the touch of her hand on his forehead that night as he rose from her knee he couldn't bear the thought of deceiving her again and so he confessed.
"It wasn't wrong, was it, to fight for a thing like that?" he asked wistfully.
"No," came the answer. "He needed a thrashing—the little scoundrel, and I'm glad you did it."
XI
The school flickered out in five weeks and the following summer another lasted for six weeks.
And then they moved to the land Tom had staked off in the heart of the great forest fifteen miles from the northern banks of the Ohio. He would still be in sight of the soil of Kentucky.
The Boy's heart beat with new wonder as they slowly floated across the broad surface of the river. He could conceive of no greater one.