it I opened my hand in obedience to his onslaught; and the apple rolled
in the manure and litter of the stable, and was soiled and befouled.

"Throwin' my apple in the manure, will yeh!" he yelled. "I'll larn ye!
Pick that apple up!"

I reached for it with trembling hand, and held it out to him.

"It ain't fit for anything but the hogs!" he yelled. "Eat it, hog!"

I looked at the filthy thing, and raised my hand to my mouth; but before
I touched it with my lips a great change came over me. I trembled still
more, now; but it was not with fear. I suddenly felt that if I could
kill Ace, I would be willing to die. I was willing to die trying to kill
him. I could not get away from him because he was between me and the
door, but now suddenly I did not want to get away. I wanted to get at
him. I threw the apple down.

"Pick that apple up and eat it," he said in a low tone, looking me
straight in the eye, "or I'll pound you till you can't walk."

"I won't," said I.

Ace rushed at me, and as he rushed, he struck me in the face. I went
down, and he piled on me, hitting me as he could. I liked the feel of
his blows; it was good to realize that they did not hurt me half so much
as his abuse had done. I did not know how to fight, but I grappled with
him fiercely. I reached for his hair, and he tried to bite my thumb,
actually getting it in his mouth, but I jerked it aside and caught his
cheek in my grip, my thumb inside the cheek-pouch, and my fingers