The feeling that he was in a sense an avenger--alike for the girl and for his own outraged feelings--gave Jimmy a strength he would not otherwise have had in colder blood. It came to Charlie's turn to go down, and then to sit up, with a mild sort of amazement on his good-humoured face, the while he rubbed the back of his head. Then, taking things more seriously, he got to his feet, and set to work in earnest, only to find himself beaten by the nimbler Jimmy. And it finished with the pair of them rolling over and over, grappling fiercely, while Jimmy pummelled the other boy wherever he could get in a blow. "Say--say you're sorry!" he gasped, still hitting away with might and main. "Say--say you're a beast!" "I'm not," jerked out the other, "and I'm--not sorry. Let go my hair!" "Say--say you're sorry--or I'll kill you!" panted Jimmy, still hitting wildly. "Oh--oh--all right--I'm sorry. She isn't worth this," gasped the other. "Get off!" "She _is_ worth it--and you know it," cried Jimmy, setting to work again harder than ever. "Say it!" And Charlie finally said it, as an easy way to end the business. Then they drew off from each other, the better to ascertain the damage. Charlie had a beautiful colour beginning to rise on one side of his forehead, and he mopped at his nose doubtfully, and seemed a little astonished at the state of his handkerchief. Jimmy had a fast darkening eye and a suspicious puffiness about the mouth. "What are you going to say about it?" asked Jimmy. "I mean--you won't speak about her?" "I suppose not," replied Charlie. "It doesn't matter much what we say; we had a row, and had it out." "Very well," replied the other stiffly. Moira flew home by another route--got to Old Paul before Jimmy could possibly arrive at the house. Breathlessly she blurted out something of the story, and it would appear from her narrative that Jimmy had been in the right, but that it must not be talked about. "Old Paul," she whispered, shaking him to a better understanding, "you know what I mean?" "Oh, yes, I understand," he said, with comically raised eyebrows. He went away to find the others, muttering as he went something which sounded to Moira's ears like "Oh, wise little woman!". So that it happened that when Jimmy, with some bravado and some hesitation, met them all at the table, and braced himself to meet their outcries and their exclamations, he found that he had nothing to meet. True, they looked at him covertly, and Alice seemed to be a little frightened, but that was all. Yet when Moira found a chance to slip her hand into his under the table, he hurriedly disengaged his fingers, and did not look at her. For so much at least his new conquering manhood demanded. CHAPTER VI MRS. BAFFALL'S DREAM