Then, without stopping for the other to cease his beating, if he would, Dean seized the fellow by the collar and hurled him backward a dozen yards, when the other whirled about on his feet like a top for a moment, to fall in a heap at last. The abused boy slowly staggered to his feet, rubbing his eyes and staring stupidly upon Dean, as if he was too bewildered to speak, which in truth he was. He was considerably smaller than Dean, and a stranger to him. “Has he hurt you very much?” asked Dean. “Broke me all up,” replied the latter. “And I was just walking along without speaking to any one. I----” “You crib every durned word you lisp!” cried Tim Downey fiercely, regaining his feet at this juncture. Then seeing and recognizing Dean, he snapped: “So it’s you that hev durst to meddle in my ’fairs! Drat yer picter, I’ll fix ye so ye won’t look in the glass fer one good spell!” Tim had clenched his fists and was about to spring on Dean, when the latter said, in a clear, ringing tone: “Lay a hand on me if you dare, Tim Downey.” “I do dare!” yelled the bully, suddenly making a dash for the other. Tim could never tell just what took place in the next half minute. But he soon found himself lying prone upon the ground again. He got up slower than he had before, his eyes filled with dirt and a stinging sensation behind the ear where Dean Mercer’s fist had landed. He stood glowering upon his victor without speaking. Dean, seeing he had quite knocked out the bully for the time, turned to speak to the boy he had rescued from the other’s abuse. “You look like a stranger in Millville?” “I am, mister. My name is Marcus Ellison. I sha’n’t forget the good turn you did me. I thank you, and, if you don’t mind, I’ll be going. Hope the fellow won’t make you any trouble on my account.” “Never fear for that.” Seeing that the strange youth was anxious to be going his way, Dean said nothing further to him, while he again faced his enemy. “Mebbe ye think ye’ve done yerself up brown with that, Dean Mercer. But I’ll do you up browner afore I’m through with yer miserable meddling. I know a thing or two that you don’t think I know,” and with these words the bully hastily left the place, Dean looking after him with a quizzical expression upon his countenance. “Didn’t take long to stop that fuss,” he mused. “But perhaps it isn’t ended as far as I am concerned. Tim Downey has the reputation of being the worst boy in town, but that does not mean that I need fear him. Wonder what made that other boy in such a hurry.” Dean then came out from the dark corner into the main street which ran nearly parallel with the waterline. Millville lacked but one quality to make it one of the most beautiful and attractive places anywhere in the country. That quality was life, a very essential element.