Ned approached, sheepish in mien, yet determined to stick up for himself in case she took him to task.
But she did not. She stood him by the sink, and while she treated his wound with homely remedies, applied by soft touch, she let him tell his battle-story. And when his story and his treatment had been finished together, and he had emerged with a huge bandage encircling his crown like a turban, she only sighed:
"Indeed, ma'am, an' I for one am mighty glad that he wor havin' the best of that Mike Farr," blurted Maggie, who had been listening with approval. "Sure, Mike Farr is nothin' but a coward an' a blow. _I_ know him; I know him well, bad cess to him."
"He's mean, _isn't_ he, Maggie?" appealed Ned.
"That he is. He'll come to the gallows; he will. An' all that South Beaufort gang, too. Yes, I know 'em," declared Maggie, wagging her head. "They're regular little divils."
"Maggie!" exclaimed Mrs. Miller, somewhat shocked.
"Well, they'd better not tackle us fellows again," asserted Ned, swaggering out for another armful of wood.
"Sure, an' I bet he's a fighter when he gets started," she mused. "Look at them legs an' arms! An' Big Mike twice his size, too."
"Maggie," reproved Mrs. Miller, "I don't want you to encourage Ned in fighting. I don't like it."
And she withdrew in dignity to the sitting-room, where, safe in privacy, she did not know whether to laugh or be provoked. At any rate, she did not relish the idea of her Neddie going about with a chip on his shoulder, challenging boys "twice his size," according to Maggie.
Mr. Miller, coming home, from afar descried Ned's turban as it bobbed around in the back yard.
"Hello," he hailed. "That's a new kind of cap, isn't it?"
"Yes, sir," smiled Ned. "And I've got a new eye, too. Want to see it?" and advancing toward the front to meet his father he obligingly lifted the bandage.
"Phew!" said Mr. Miller, gravely. "I think I prefer the old eye. Was this a present?"
His father put a hand on his shoulder, and together they entered the house. Here Ned, helped out by his mother, again made his explanations. At the close his father simply said:
"Well, Ned, I don't see how you could have acted any differently--but I don't approve of fighting, any more than does your mother. Fighting is not always a fair test of your side of a question, you know. It is better to avoid a fight by every honorable means in your power. Sometimes it is more cowardly to fight than to keep from fighting. But if you can't avoid it," he added, quizzically; "if there's nothing left to do, to save honor, but fight, then fight for all there is in you!"