because you know he's goin' to punch your face after school."

The younger lad flushed crimson and he began an unconvincing denial. "I
ain't--I ain't afraid of him, neither," he protested. "That ain't the
truth, Ham."

"All right then." The elder boy filled the bucket and straightened up
with business-like alacrity. "If you ain't scared of him we might as
well go on back there an' tell him so. He thinks you are."

Instinctively Paul flinched and turned pallid. He gazed about him like
a trapped rabbit, but his brother caught him roughly by the shoulder and
wheeled him toward the school-house.

"But--Ham--but--" The younger brother's voice faltered and again tears
came to his eyes. "But I don't b'lieve in fightin'. I think it's
wicked."

"Paul," announced the other relentlessly, "you're a coward. Maybe it
ain't exactly your fault, but one thing's dead certain. There's just one
kind of feller that can't afford to run away--an' that's a coward, like
you. Everybody picks on a kid that's yeller. You've got to have one good
fight to save a lot of others an' this is the day you're goin' to have
it. After school you've got to smash Jimmy Marquess a wallop on his
front teeth an' if you don't shake 'em plumb loose I'm goin' to take you
back in the woods an' give you a revelation in lickin's that'll linger
with you for years." Ham paused and then added ominously, "Now you can
do just exactly as you like. I don't want to try to influence you, but
that Marquess kid is your softest pickin'."