The overseer was amazed could hardly believe his own eyes, when he saw the strange spectacle before him.

“What does this mean?” he asked sharply.

“I have been assaulted brutally assaulted,” whined Hanks.

“And you assaulted him?” he said sternly, turning to Fred.

“I have done nothing without good cause,” replied Fred.

“See, he don’t deny it,” put in Hanks.

“No, I don’t deny it, if defending a little cripple against your abuse and cruel treatment is an assault,” answered our hero in a way that carried conviction to the overseer.

“Abuse and cruel treatment!” repeated Mr. Farrington.

“Yes; here is Carl. He can tell the story,” replied our young friend.

“Why, my boy, are you sick? What makes you look so pale?” asked Mr. Farrington, with feeling, as Carl stepped toward him, hardly able to stand.

“I do feel a little faint,” he said, catching hold of Fred’s hand for support.

“Have you been injured by that man?” asked the kind hearted overseer, pointing with scorn at Hanks.

“Oh, I don’t know why he did it. I didn’t disobey him,” replied the little cripple, with tears in his eyes.

The tone of his voice, his tears, and whole manner touched Mr. Farrington deeply.

“What did he do to you?” he asked.

Carl told the story in substance as I have already given it.

“I regret seriously that anything of this kind should have happened,” said Mr. Farrington to our hero, “but I admire the spirit and bravery you have shown in defending this poor boy;” and turning to Hanks he gave him a withering rebuke, and discharged him on the spot. “Come to my desk,” continued the indignant overseer, “and get a bill of your time, and never show your head in my department again.”

Hanks saw that further argument would be of no use to him. He consequently gathered up his effects with as much celerity as possible, and after washing the blood stains from his face and hands, and casting upon Fred a parting glance of hatred and revenge, he left the room amid the jeers and taunts of all the workmen.

Fred found himself the hero of the hour. The news spread through the mill with almost incredible rapidity. His defense of the poor cripple touched the hearts of the operatives.

Carl’s uncle told the story of Fred’s kindness to his nephew, as well as his offer to teach him. Everybody in the mill talked the matter over, and perhaps magnified to some extent Fred’s bravery and noble hearted conduct.

A little incident often turns the tide of popular opinion. This act turned it most effectually in Fred’s favor, and he was now lionized by all the factory people.

The report was not long in finding its way throughout the village. Our young friend’s name was in the mouth of almost every one. He was discussed and rediscussed as one only can be in a small village, where little happens of general interest to form a theme of conversation. With few exceptions, the verdict of popular opinion was flattering to him. The manner of almost every one changed toward him as if by magic.

Those people who had but a few days before cast suspicious, knowing glances at him, as if to say, “I know your record,” were now most cordial and painstaking to try and impress him with a sense of their friendship and their admiration for his bravery and manly conduct.

Fred now thought that he could see his way back to his old position among his friends, and the hope made him happy.

He wondered what Nellie thought of him now, and whether his act that had won the praise of so many had placed him in a better light before her eyes. How much he wanted to see her and receive her praise! A single word from her would have been more highly prized than the most flattering compliments of twenty others.

Shortly after Mr. Farrington returned to his desk from the scene at the flockers, Jacob Simmons entered the factory and approached him.

“Can you give me a job?” said he meekly. “I have finished my fall work, and would like to get in here during the cold weather.”

“Yes, I want a man at once.”

“I’m your man, then,” returned Jacob hopefully.

“Can you commence work now? I have just discharged a man, and must put some one in his place, or the work will fall behind.”

“Sho! How fortunate!”

“Fortunate for you, you mean?”

“That’s it; that’s it exactly.”

“But you have not answered my question. Can you commence work at once?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then you may have the position.”

Jacob looked happy.

“You may come with me,” continued Mr. Farrington, as he led the way through the long hall and down the stairs to the flockers. “I have a bright boy who will teach you the duties of the position.”

“That will help out, but I shan’t be long in learning,” replied Jacob.

They had now reached the flockers.

“Here is your assistant,” said Mr. Farrington, as Fred came up from behind one of the machines. “I presume you know each other well.”

Jacob took a step back involuntarily, and the color seemed to leave his face, as if terrified at our hero’s sudden and unexpected appearance before him.

“Why, don’t you know him?” asked the overseer, observing Mr. Simmons hesitate.

“Oh, I see now, it is Fred Worthington,” replied Jacob, regaining his self possession.

“Yes, and you will find him a valuable assistant. Fred, I wish you to teach Mr. Simmons the duties of his position. I will come down again before the closing hour,” he continued, as he turned to go up stairs, “and see how you get along with the work.”