The task, however, was not an easy one. The drunken man was tall and
strongly made, and his condition did not appear to interfere with
his locomotion. He was evidently half crazed with drink, and his
pursuit of the young girl arose probably from a blind impulse; but
it was likely to be none the less serious for her. Grant saw at once
that he was far from being a match for the drunkard in physical
strength. If he had been timid, a regard for his personal safety
would have led him to keep aloof. But he would have despised himself
if he had not done what he could for the girl--stranger though she
was--who was in such peril.

It chanced that Grant had cut a stout stick to help him on his way.
This suggested his plan of campaign. He ran sideways toward the
pursuer, and thrust his stick between his legs, tripping him up. The
man fell violently forward, and lay as if stunned, breathing
heavily. Grant was alarmed at first, fearing that he might be
seriously hurt, but a glance assured him that his stupor was chiefly
the result of his potations.

Then he hurried to overtake the girl, who, seeing what had taken
place, had paused in her flight.

"Don't be frightened," said Grant. "The man can't get up at present.
I will see you home if you will tell me where you live."

"I am boarding at Mrs. Granger's, quarter of a mile back, mamma and
I," answered the girl, the color, temporarily banished by fright,
returning to her cheeks.

"Where did you fall in with this man?" inquired Grant.