"She's in trouble--here's my chance," he thought.
His tall figure straightened and as he stepped through the shop door his
head struck sharply against the door frame, but he did not feel the blow
that at another time might have knocked him down. During his whole life he
had never struck any one with his fists, and had never felt a desire to
do so, but now hunger to strike and even to kill took complete possession
of him. With a cry of rage his fist shot out and the old man who had done
the talking was knocked senseless into a clump of weeds that grew near
the door. Hugh whirled and struck a second man who fell through the open
doorway into the shop. The third man ran away into the darkness along
Turner's Pike.
Hugh walked rapidly to town and through Main Street. He saw Tom Butterworth
walking in the street with Steve Hunter, but turned a corner to avoid a
meeting. "My chance has come," he kept saying to himself as he hurried
along Medina Road. "Clara's in some kind of trouble. My chance has come."
By the time he got to the door of the Butterworth house, Hugh's new-found
courage had almost left him, but before it had quite gone he raised his
hand and knocked on the door. By good fortune Clara came to open it. Hugh
took off his hat and turned it awkwardly in his hands. "I came out here to
ask you to marry me," he said. "I want you to be my wife. Will you do it?"
Clara stepped out of the house and closed the door.
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