fight was over, and Nick had received such a decided thrashing, Owen
felt like dancing around. He was a boy, every inch of him, with all a
boy's feelings; and Nick had humiliated him dreadfully, as well as
taken a mean advantage over him on account of his superior strength.

"I'm a thousand times obliged to you, Hugh!" cried the grateful Owen,
wringing the other's hand vigorously; "of course this winds up my
evening's pleasure, and I was enjoying myself more than any time in my
whole life."

"Why should it put a stop to your fun?" demanded Hugh. "What if you
have got a bloody nose, and a lump on your forehead. See here how my
knuckles are badly skinned, will you; and I fancy I've something of a
scratch on my right cheek, where he got to me. We'll wash up back of
the farmhouse, you and I, Owen. Of course all the folks will have to
know what's happened; but then we needn't be ashamed of the part we
took in the little circus."

"Yes, be a sport, Owen," said Thad, encouragingly. "There isn't a
single girl at the hop but who will sing out 'good!' when they hear
that Nick Lang met his match tonight. And say, Owen, Peggy Noland will
likely clap her hands with joy when she learns of what's happened, and
then be extra nice when she sees how that brute marked you. Sympathy
is akin to love you know, they say, Owen."

Owen had to laugh at this good-natured "joshing," but he allowed
himself to be persuaded to accompany Hugh to the rear of the farmhouse.
Here Thad soon secured a basin, and some warm water, as well as soap
and a towel. The boys performed their ablusions, and in the end made
quite a respectable appearance.