“So ho!” he cried. “We have here five rich, young persons—rich with the money they have no right to—stolen money—stolen from me and mine. While we beg and tramp, and dress in rags, you throw away the money we have earned for you. Well, we won’t have it. Will we, pals? We’ll get back some of the money that belongs to us by rights. You’ll hand out what you’ve got in your pockets, and, if it ain’t enough, we’ll keep you into the bargain until your fathers they pays for your release. D’ye see? Ho! Ho!” He roared out a terrible laugh until the woods resounded.
The three boys had lined up in front of the two girls and Stephen had called to them reassuringly over his shoulder:
“Start on, girls. You know the path. Follow it the way we came. If you meet Adam, ask him to go with you, or even old Jennie. Don’t be frightened. It’ll be all right, but we’ve got to fight.”
Barbara and Ruth, both very calm and pale, were standing silently, waiting for orders.
“Do you think we could help by staying, Bab?” asked Ruth.
“I don’t know, dear,” replied Bab. “Wait, and let me think a moment.” She closed her eyes and her moving lips repeated the little prayer: “Heaven, make me calm in the face of danger,” but in that moment the fight had begun. The two girls stood fascinated, rooted to the spot.
Stephen, who was a trained boxer, had tackled the leader and had managed to give him several straight blows, at the same time dodging the badly-aimed blows from the big fist of his opponent. Alfred had purposely chosen the next largest tramp, leaving a small, wiry man for Jimmie to grapple with. Alfred, also, had been carefully trained in the arts of boxing and wrestling; but his opponent was no mean match for him, and the two presently were rolling over and over on the ground, their faces covered with dust and blood. Poor Jimmie was not a fighter. All his life he had shunned gymnasiums, preferring to thrum the piano or the guitar, or invent models for airships. However, the boy was no coward and he went at his enemy with a will that was lacking in force only because he himself lacked the muscle to give it. But the wiry fellow who had been his portion was evidently the best-trained fighter of the three tramps, and it was only a few moments before Jimmie was bleeding from the nose and one eye was blacked. It looked as if Alfred, too, were getting the worst of it, while Stephen and his tramp were still raining blows upon each other, jumping about in a circle. Bab longed to help Jimmie, but she saw, and Ruth agreed, that they would do more harm than good.
The two girls decided to run for help, even if they had to run all the way to Ten Eyck Hall, especially as, in the midst of the scrimmage, Stephen had called out to them to hurry up.
Making the best speed they could through the brambles and ferns, they had gone not more than a few rods when, pausing in their flight, they found themselves face to face with blind Jennie.
“What is happening?” demanded the old woman in a terrified whisper. “I hear the sound of blows. I smell blood.”