With a hoarse cry of rage
and terror he rushed out to the rescue. But the house was three or four
hundred yards away, and his old knees trembled beneath him as he thought
of what the little one might suffer before he could get there.
The poor little fellow was dazed by the blow, and could not get his
breath to scream. The next moment Baizley had seized him by the legs
and soused him in the pool. When he came out again he found his voice,
and a long shriek of pain and terror went through Mr. Hand's heart
like a knife.
All this had happened so quickly that Will was unable to hinder it.
He was choking with indignant pity, and found himself on the fence
and half way across the field before he could yell:
"Drop that, you brute!"
Baizley was too much occupied to hear or heed. He was just about to
duck the little one a second time when Will arrived.
With one hand Will seized the child by the petticoats, and with the
other dealt the ruffian a blow in the mouth that staggered him and
made him release his victim. Will had just time to drop the little
fellow to one side and put up his guard when Baizley was upon him
with a curse.
The blow was a mighty one, and so sudden that Will parried it with
difficulty, at the same time almost staggering upon Toddles, who lay
on his face wailing piteously. Afraid lest the child should get injured
in the conflict, Will dodged aside and ran off a few paces. Ascribing
this movement to fear, Baizley followed him up impetuously, with oaths
and taunts.
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