When he found that they were standing their ground, daring to disobey his orders, his wrath was tremendous.
"You scoundrels! You dirty scum of the earth!" he roared. And with that he plucked the nearest fellow by the scruff of the neck and the seat of his breeches and flung him into the gutter. To the next he gave an open-handed buffet that sent him reeling from the mêlée. Ignoring the rest, he was proceeding to unpinion Amos, when the leader of the mob, a big blacksmith from Westings Centre, who was a famous demagogue, confronted him.
"Look a-here, Doctor Pigeon," he said, defiantly, "we're lettin' you be, leastways for the present! You let us be, an' jest mind yer own business. Hands off yerself!"
Doctor Jim, apparently, never heard him.
The blacksmith therefore seized Amos by the waist and jerked him from Doctor Jim's grasp.
"Look a-here, you!" he shouted, squaring off. "You've got to fight me afore you untie that man!"
Fight him! Doctor Jim gave an inarticulate roar of scorn and fury at the idea. Then his great white hands shot out like lightning. One seized the champion's throat; the other laid terrible hold upon his waistband, with just so much of clothing and skin and flesh as those iron fingers could compass. One huge, dislocating shake and the champion had no more fight in him. Doctor Jim lifted his demoralised opponent bodily, carried him several paces, and dropped him over the horse trough into the dirty, deep-trodden mud. Then, seeing that Amos had got himself free, he strode back to where Mistress Mehitable was waiting, his heavy eyebrows still working with indignation.
Barbara, whom he had not seen, now had a word to say to the discomfited rabble, who one and all knew her views and admired her prodigiously. She eyed them for half a minute with slow, eviscerating scorn. Then she said: "You call yourselves patriots! You make me ashamed of the name. If all Americans were like you they'd deserve freedom, wouldn't they? And what is that ruffian doing here?" pointing to the bedraggled, discredited, foaming blacksmith. "Must you go to Westings Centre for a leader? You had better send him back where he belongs!"
"You'd better shet your mouth, miss," sputtered the champion, "or you may git—" but at this moment the men of Second Westings, recovering their manhood, fell upon him with great unanimity and completed the discipline which Doctor Jim had left unfinished. And Barbara walked away with her head in the air.
After this Mistress Mehitable, who was herself, and for herself, absolutely fearless behind her quiet blue eyes, yielded to Doctor Jim's persuasions and let it be known that Barbara, being her heir, was partly in authority at Westings House. Whenever extra help was needed, therefore, Amos was sent down to Doctor Jim's and Barbara hired her helpers in her own name. To her employ the Second Westings men came willingly enough, and showed themselves humourously tolerant of Abby's caustic tongue, which was given full run whenever they entered the kitchen. And the village settled back gradually into a hollow imitation of its ancient somnolence.