But the contradictory reports of the officer put things in a different
light, which angered her considerably. Why, we can not say, but she and her
family vented their chief anger upon Austin. He it was who had discomfited
them, and was therefore to blame.

Austin did not spare his reproofs to the children nor his commands as to
their behavior in the future. He blamed them for running about as they had.
Because he was so little older than the girls, he could not see why they
should not feel some of the responsibility that loaded him. He could not
sympathize with their carefree and thoughtless ways, and reproved them
accordingly. He was indeed finding that the cares of a family man are many.

One evening as he and his family were eating supper, the thick, incoherent
voice of a drunken man fell on their ears. Turning to the door, they saw
him coming up the walk staggering. Austin stepped to the screen and latched
it, not wishing him to come in among the children in that condition. The
fellow was in a terrible anger, and, reeling up to the door, he said, "I
want you, Austin Hill, to come out here. I am going to whip you for the
lies you have been telling on us." Austin recognized him as one of the men
from the home of the neighbor who had circulated the evil reports.

"I do not want to fight you. You are in no condition to fight, and I have
done nothing to deserve a whipping," said Austin quietly.

"You come out here, you coward, and I will show you how you can put the lie
on us as you have. Come out and let us settle this like men," commanded the
fellow with horrid oaths.

Seeing he was crazy with drink, Austin said no more; but, making the door