Then Mahala went on her way to school, and she failed in her lessons all day because her mind was not on her work. She longed to ask her mother several important questions, but dared not on account of the bird and Junior’s injury. She was afraid to ask the questions to which she wanted answers of Mrs. Williams, for fear she would mention to Mahala’s mother what she had been asked. She dared not tell that Jason had been forced from school, lest he be connected in the minds of her parents with Junior. For many days she carried a head full of disquieting thought, a heart of aching protest. Mrs. Sims bought one ham, Mrs. Jordan bought two. After they had gone, Peter Potter planted himself in front of Jason and shook his head sadly. Then he said: “Now look here, my lad, don’t you get any silly notions into your noddle. You’ve got to understand that the richest and the prettiest girl in this town ain’t in any way connected with you. She’s sorry for you, same as I am, because she knows you ain’t gettin’ a square deal.” Jason answered quietly: “I know, Peter. You needn’t worry.” He went into the back room and sat down on a pickle keg, and with a brush and a can of black paint, on a smooth piece of pine before him, he began to paint. After he had worked for half an hour, Peter Potter tiptoed up behind him and looked over his shoulder. He read upon one piece of pine: “I dare you to look at this and not want to eat it!” and on the other: “We have turned over a new leaf. Have you?” Peter slipped away and indulged in the unusual occupation of deep and concentrated thought. His eyes were following Jason while he cleaned out one of the show windows, set the new sign of challenge in it, and surrounded it with bread, cake, cookies, and every delicious food in the grocery that he could display in the open. Through the other freshly washed window, the passer-by might read the leaf sign and see an assortment of cheese and pickles, and half of a ham that looked as pink as a piece of coral framed in a broad white ring of sweet, sugar-cured fat. A freshly dusted coffee canister stood near it. A big box of lima beans flanked it on one side and the brown and gold of smoked herring was on the other; along the back, an open keg of whitefish and another of mackerel, with samples of their contents attractively displayed.