“My enemy Turner was fond of old Maggie, and frequently went to see her and have a chat. It chanced that he was visiting her on the evening we had decided to steal her apples. While sitting beside her, listening as earnestly to a prolonged and graphic account of the old woman’s troubles as if he had been the minister of the parish, he chanced to look out of the window, and saw a boy descending one of the apple-trees. One of old Maggie’s troubles was the stealing of her apples by village boys. She had dilated extensively on the subject and aroused her friend’s anger. With a burst of indignation, he rushed out, and caught little Spinks in the act of making off with his second capful of apples.
“‘What! Spinks? I should not have expected this of you,’ said Tom, releasing my little victim.
“‘I didn’t want to do it,’ whimpered Spinks; ‘but I couldn’t help it. I—’
“‘Yes, yes; I understand. Who was it that set you on?’
“‘Please, I don’t want to tell.’
“I am convinced that brave little Spinks would have refused to tell to the end of the chapter, but I saved him further trouble. Wondering, as I stood behind the wall, what kept him so long, I shouted, ‘Come along, Spinks; look sharp!’
“‘Oh! I know now who did it,’ said Turner. ‘Go, my boy. I’ll relieve you of the apples.’
“So saying, he carried the apples to the owner, and Spinks came and told me what had occurred.
“‘I’ll thrash Tom Turner for this,’ I said bitterly, as we returned to the school.
“For some time past I had made up my mind to fight him. On several occasions I had proved myself to be possessed of a little more bodily strength than Tom; and as regarded endurance and pluck, I felt quite at ease on these points.