Of course a contest between a burly ruffian of twenty-five and a little girl of ten could only terminate in one way. Stephen Palmer forcibly opened the closed hand of his little step-sister, and snatched from it the coveted coin, which he exultingly held aloft, crying:
"I told you I would have it, you little minx."
Grace began to cry, and Mrs. Palmer exclaimed, in justifiable indignation:
"Are you not ashamed, Stephen Palmer, to rob a little girl like Grace?"
"Who talks of robbery?" retorted Stephen. "I've only borrowed it from her."
He laughed tauntingly, for he understood, while he spoke, what little chance Grace would have of recovering her money through his voluntary restitution.
"Borrowed it!" repeated Mrs. Palmer, with bitter emphasis. "It is theft, and nothing else."
"Do you call me a thief?" blustered Stephen, scowling.
"You are nothing better, Stephen Palmer!" returned his step-mother, now thoroughly aroused.
"Take care what you say, Mrs. Palmer!" said Stephen, advancing a step toward her. "I'm a bad man when I get mad."
"You never said a truer word," said Mrs. Palmer, more courageous in defense of Grace than she would have been for herself.
"Look here! You just drop that," said Stephen, doggedly, "or I may do you harm."
"That would not be surprising," retorted the widow, undaunted. "A man who will rob a little girl won't hesitate to strike a woman."
The intoxicated young man was thoroughly incensed by his step-mother's sarcasm, and forgot the little manliness he ever possessed.
"If you think so, I'll make your words come true," he said, savagely, and advanced toward Mrs. Palmer with uplifted arm.
Mrs. Palmer turned pale, and Grace uttered a shriek of terror.
"Don't strike my mother, you bad man!" she called out.
This diverted the current of Stephen's wrath, and he turned upon the little girl.
"I'll whip you if you prefer it, Miss Saucebox," he said, and grasped Grace by the shoulder.
Mrs. Palmer sprang forward to rescue her child, but the struggle was by no means equal. The ruffian would probably have injured both but for an opportune arrival.
Paul was at the foot of the outside staircase when he heard his little sister's scream. He had a tender love for the little girl, and the thought that she was in some peril gave wings to his feet. He fairly flew up stairs, and burst into the room like a tornado.