Reuben shook his head. And, remembering how he had withstood him on a previous occasion, Savage became possessed by an impotent rage that drove him almost beside himself. He rushed at Reuben with clenched fist, but the young fellow, springing on one side, evaded the blow. At the same instant, however, the other man stepped forward, and by a cunning movement of his foot, tripped Reuben up, causing him to fall heavily to the ground. As he fell, his head struck against an angle of the wall with such force that the blow stunned him. He lay there motionless till the full light of day shone upon his white, upturned face. [Illustration] [Illustration] CHAPTER VII. REUBEN'S STORY IS DISCREDITED. WHEN Reuben came to himself, he did not at first realize that he was not waking as usual in his bed. He was very cold; his head ached sorely, and he felt bruised all over. Then he became aware that the surface on which he lay was very hard, then that a chill wind was blowing over him. With that he raised himself on his elbow, not without difficulty, for he felt strangely stiff, and lo! he was in the yard, and the factory buildings were all about him. For a few moments Reuben felt utterly bewildered. But gradually the events of the early morning came back to him. Only the fact of his being stretched there in the yard made him sure that it was not all a bad dream. For everything about him looked as usual. The cart and the men had disappeared, nor was there any sign of their having been there. He raised himself from the ground with difficulty. The movement made him feel ill, and everything seemed to swim before his eyes. But presently he began to feel better, and was able to make his way back to the gatehouse. Old Samuel was already down, and was busying himself about the breakfast, wondering the while that Reuben, who generally undertook the preparation of this meal, still lingered upstairs. He had just discovered to his astonishment that the house door was unbolted, when the appearance of Reuben, pale and dishevelled, coming in from the outside, astonished him still further. But the story Reuben had to tell, seemed to the old man scarcely credible. Mr. Savage in the yard before five o'clock in the morning, with a horse and cart, and a strange man engaged in carrying goods away! There must be some mistake. "You did not dream it all, did you, lad?" he asked, not unkindly, laying his hand on Reuben's hot forehead. "You don't look at all well, and you feel feverish. Are you quite sure, now, that you did not dream it all?" "Dream it!" exclaimed Reuben, feeling indignant that, after all he had gone through, his story should be thus received. "How could I dream such a thing? Do you think I do not know Nat Savage when I see him? Ask him yourself, if he was not in the yard last night. And as for my looking ill, I may well do that after the fall I had. Look at my forehead; it's bleeding still."