William was proceeding to thrill his hearers some more. To hear him talk
one might imagine his father was a celebrated lawyer instead of the town
blacksmith, for William had a smooth tongue.

"I guess all of you know by this time what some fellers did to Growdy's
pigs last Saturday night, painting 'em to beat the band? It's the talk
of the town, and lots of folks says that it serves the old crusty just
right. But I was tucked away in my little bed alongside t'other twin that
night, as snug as two bugs in a rug; and consequently had my little
_alibi_ ready to prove I wasn't in the bunch that paid him that sly
visit."

"Oh! we all know who did it, never fear!" cried Joe Clausin.

"He spells his name T-e-d!" echoed Bobolink.

"All right. Because some bad boys played that joke on old Growdy he seems
to have it in for every mother's son in Stanhope. I met him on the road
this afternoon when I was out with a light wagon after some feed. He was
on the way to town to deliver a big load of truck. Everybody's entitled
to half the road; ain't that the law, fellers?"

"Sure it is, William; but that mean man wouldn't budge for you, hey?"
said Jud.

"Not for an inch. Just hauled up there taking two-thirds of the road, and
started to light his pipe. I was in a hurry to get along, and thought
I could just squeeze by; but I made a mistake, and my wagon got upset in
the ditch. He went on, grinning at my trouble, and never offering to
raise a hand to help me out."