'Leave my dog alone, will you!' shouted Samuel. 'That is the second time you have kicked Punch. The dog don't hurt you, why should you hurt him?'
'I shall kick the brute if I choose,' said Hillary. 'It has no right here in the barn.'
'What harm has Punch done? And now, what is against his leaving?'
'You had no right to bring the dog here. It has been in the plantation after young game.'
'Punch is wrong whether in the barn or out of it. The guinea you got for shooting Rover has given you a set against dogs seemingly,' said young Voaden.
'The dog took your lambs at Swaddledown, and you were too much a lie-a-bed to stop it,' sneered Hillary.
'Some folk,' answered Samuel, 'have everything in such first-rate order at home they can spare time to help their neighbours.'
'No more!' exclaimed Kate; 'you shall not quarrel.'
Hillary looked round. Near him were two women who had been in the van when he returned from Tavistock with the kerchief. They, no doubt, recognised it over Kate's shoulders. They made sure it was his love-token to her, and, wearing it, she was about to affront him in their eyes. His wounded vanity made him blind to what he said or did.
'Here, Kate,' he said, thrusting himself forward, 'I am going to take you home. You cannot go with Samuel. His cursed Punch is an ill-conditioned brute, and will kill your chickens.'