“Well, you saw me go upstairs with the stick Andrew Jackson gave me,” said Mr. Badger, assuming a sitting position. “I saw the boy lyin’ on the bed, snoring and I up with my stick and brought it down pretty hard. He quivered a little, but that was all. So I thought I’d try it again. He jumped out of bed and sprang on me like a tiger, grinding his teeth, but not saying a word. I tell you, wife, he seemed as strong as a horse. I couldn’t get up, and he sat and pounded me.” “The idea of being pounded by a small boy!” ejaculated Mrs. Badger. “Just what I’d have said a quarter of an hour ago!” “It seems impossible!” “Perhaps it does, but it’s so.” “He never acted so before.” “No, and he never hit Andrew Jackson before, but yesterday he did it. I tell you what, wife, I believe the boy’s gone crazy.” “Crazy!” ejaculated Mrs. Badger and Andrew in a breath. “Just so! When folks are crazy they’re a good deal stronger than it’s nateral for them to be, and that’s the way with Bill Benton.” “But what could possibly make him crazy?” demanded Mrs. Badger incredulously. “It may be the want of vittles. I don’t know as we’d orter have kept him without his dinner and supper.” “I don’t believe a bit in such rubbish,” said Mrs. Badger, whose courage had come back with the absolute silence in the attic chamber. “I believe you’re a coward, Nathan Badger. I’ll go upstairs myself and see if I can’t succeed better than you did.” “You’d better not, wife.” “Oh, don’t go, ma!” said Andrew Jackson, pale with terror. “I’m going!” said the intrepid woman. “It shan’t be said of me that I’m afraid of a little bound boy who’s as weak as a rat.” “You’ll find out how weak he is,” said Mr. Badger. “I warn you not to go.” “I’m goin’, all the same,” said Mrs. Badger. “You’ll see how I’ll tame him down. Give me the stick.” “Then go if you’re so plaguy obstinate,” said her husband, and it must be confessed that he rather hoped his wife, who had ventured to ridicule him, might herself meet with a reception that would make her change her tune somewhat. Mrs. Badger, stick in hand, marched up to the door of the attic and called out boldly: “Open the door, you young villain!” “How does she know I’m young?” thought Tom Tapley, who was on guard in the room. “Well, now, if she wasn’t such an old woman I should feel flattered. I guess I’ll have to scare her a little. It wouldn’t be polite to tumble her downstairs as I did her husband.” “Have you gone crazy?” demanded Mrs. Badger behind the door. “Not that I know of,” muttered the tramp. “Perhaps you think you can manage me as well as Mr. Badger?” she continued. “I should smile if I couldn’t,” commented Tom Tapley. “That woman must think she’s extra strong to be a match for me!” “I’m coming in to whip you till you cry for mercy!” “Really, she’s a pretty spunky old woman!” thought the tramp. “If I can’t hold my own against her, I’ll sell myself for old rags!”