Lon’s only answer was a more desperate attempt to get his arms free and so strike his enemy with more precision. But the unequal contest was exhausting Hadley’s strength, and he knew he could not keep his advantage for long. So, putting forth all his remaining energy, he suddenly rolled Lon over and came uppermost himself. The dog yelped loudly and let go the boot, for Hadley had managed to give him a well-placed kick at the same moment, and while the brute was recovering from this the boy broke away from Lon and sprang to his feet.
The dog seeing its master on the ground, growled savagely and leaped for Hadley again—this time for his throat. But the boy was ready for the attack, and the toe of his riding boot caught the animal under the jaw and sent it backward with terrific force. Lon had secured his footing, too, and seeing his canine friend so badly treated, came at Hadley with redoubled fury. The latter caught him at arms’ length and before Lon could secure any hold, threw him forcibly to the ground.
The dog happened to be in the way and his master fell flat upon him and with sufficient force to break the animal’s spine. The dog’s almost humanlike cry of agony shocked Hadley, and his anger was gone in an instant. “Oh, the poor creature!” he cried, and as Lon got up, bleeding at the nose and much bruised, Hadley knelt down beside the beast to see how badly it was hurt. But with a few spasmodic jerks of its limbs the dog lay still; its master’s fall had killed it.
Alwood, however, little interested in the death of the faithful creature, was searching about the pasture, and suddenly finding a smooth cobble, hurled it with all his might at the kneeling boy. Fortunately, Hadley turned in time to see the action and dodge the stone. He leaped up, and Lon turned tail and ran to escape merited punishment for this cowardly act.
“That fellow hasn’t a spark of honor,” thought the victor of this rather sanguinary encounter. “He can’t fight fair. I’m sorry I killed his dog; but I don’t believe Lon thought of the poor brute at all. He was just mad at me and cared nothing about it. I’ll have to watch out for Lon Alwood, for he’ll seek to injure me without giving fair warning, I know.”
His encounter with the Tory youth had detained him, until now it was growing dusk along the edges of the wood which bordered the pasture. He hurried on and soon arrived at the outbuildings and barns belonging to his uncle. The cattle had come up to the barnyard and the cows were being milked by the hired hands, while Ephraim overlooked the feeding. If the old gentleman deprived himself of everything but the bare necessities of life, he was careful that his stock was well fed.
The men were mostly lads from neighboring farms, who went home at night, working for their monthly wage for Master Morris because there was not enough to do to keep them busy at home. They cordially greeted the miser’s nephew, for though they were nearly all from Tory families, Hadley was popular with them. Ephraim Morris, however, had but a cold welcome for the stableboy.
“Well,” he said, in an unpleasant voice, “what have you got to say for yourself, Hadley?”
“About what, uncle?” demanded the boy.
“Oh, I’ve heard all about it. I let you work for that innkeeper and this is what it comes to, hey? I thought so—I thought so! Hanging around a place like that would spoil anybody’s morals. I’m surprised at you, Hadley—and your mother was a good woman. And for you, who were born a British subject on English soil yourself, to help these crazy colonists along—”