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For one reason alone, shy little Carlos regretted his family moving to the tiny town of Miami, Arizona.

The reason was the kid next door. The boy's name was Bobby. He was a full-blooded Native American. Same age as Carlos, same grammar school, class, but a lot bigger. Carlos was himself half Irish, half Cherokee, but apparently that wasn't good enough for Bobby.

So every day after school, Bobby the bully would chase Carlos home.

Most days he would catch him and beat him up. Right next door to the

cottages where Carlos and Bobby lived was a gas station. The owner's name there was

Jack and every day Jack would stand there and he'd watch this sad little scenario recur.

The bully chasing the smaller boy, then catching him, and then pounding him day after day.

Jack may have known that Carlos's father was an alcoholic and that he was mostly oblivious to his son's problems.

So one day, Jack decided.

It was time for him to butt in.

He went to Carlos's mother and he told her,

please stay in the house today and do not interfere. And she agreed.

And sure enough, right on schedule, little Carlos came running past the gas

station towards his house.

Bobby the bully was not yet in sight.

Jack the gas station man stopped Carlos and he said,

I'd like to have a word with you.

Politely but urgently, the little boy explained that he must not stop now he had to go straight

away because Bobby was chasing him and he would be here any minute.

Jack said you're not going anywhere.

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