The question to be decided was this: Did Tom Steadman strike Libby Anne with intent to hurt; or did he merely reprimand her gently to "shinny on her own side"; or did she run under his stick when he struck at the ball? Tom Steadman said she ran under his stick, and he didn't see her, whereupon some of the children who were not living on rented farms groaned. Several of the children gave their testimony that Tom had without doubt struck her "a-purpose!" Then Mr. Steadman, Tom's father, a big, well-fed man, who owned nineteen hundred acres of land and felt that some liberty should be allowed the only son of a man who paid such a heavy school-tax, took charge and said, fixing his eyes on Bill Cavers, his poverty-stricken tenant: "Let us see what Libby Anne has to say. I should say that Libby Anne's testimony should have more weight than all these others, for these young ones seem to have a spite at our Tom. Libby Anne, did Tom strike you a-purpose?" "Be careful what you say, Libby Anne," her father said miserably, his eyes on the ground. He owed Steadman for his seed-wheat. Libby Anne looked appealingly at Bud. Her eyes begged him to forgive her. Mr. Steadman repeated the question. "Speak, Libby Anne," her father said, never raising his eyes. "Did Tom hit you a-purpose?" Libby Anne drew a deep breath, and then in a strange voice she answered: "No." She flung out the word as if it burned her. Libby Anne was a pathetic figure in her much-washed derry dress, faded now to the colour of dead grass, and although she was clean and well-kept, her pleading eyes and pale face told of a childhood that had been full of troubles and tears. Bud stared at her in amazement, and then, as the truth flashed on him, he packed up his books, hot with rage, and left the schoolhouse. Bill Cavers hung his head in shame, for though he was a shiftless fellow, he loved his little girl in his better moments, and the two cruel marks on her thin little shins called loudly for vengeance; but must live, he told himself miserably. When Bud left the school Libby Anne was in her seat, sobbing bitterly, but he did not give her a glance as he angrily slammed the door behind him. Two days after this, Bud was drawing wood from the big bush north of the Assiniboine, and as he passed the Cavers home Libby Anne, with a thin black shawl around her, came running out to speak to him. "Bud," she called breathlessly, "I had to say it. Dad made me do it, 'cos he's scairt of old man Steadman." Bud stopped his horses and jumped down. They stood together on the shady side of the load of poles. "That's all right, kid," Bud said. "Don't you worry. I liked lickin' him." "But Bud," Libby Anne said wistfully, "you can't ever forget that I lied, can you? You can't ever like me again?" Bud looked at the little wind-blown figure, such a little troubled, pathetic face, and something tender and manly stirred in his heart.