't do no good. She came down here
with red eyes an' tramped 'round in the deep snow askin' questions.
But, sakes, Ned Joselyn wouldn't 'a' come to an out-o'-the-way place
like this; we didn't never suit his style, ye see; so poor Ann Kenton--
whose misfortun' made her Mrs. Ned Joselyn--cried an' wailed fer a day
er two an' then crep' back to the city like a whipped dog. Funny how
women'll care fer a wuthless, ne'er-do-well chap that happens to be
good-lookin', ain't it?"

Mary Louise nodded rather absently. However distorted the story might
be, it was curious what had become of Mr. Joselyn. But her thoughts
reverted to another theme and she asked:

"Hasn't Mr. Cragg a granddaughter?"

"Oh, ye've seen little Ingua Scammel, hev ye? Or mebbe just heard tell
of her. She's the cussedest little coal o' fire in seven counties!
Keeps Ol' Swallertail guessin' all the time, they say, jes' like her
mom, Nan Cragg, did afore her. Gosh, what a woman her mom were! She
didn't stay 'round here much, but whenever she run out o' cash an'
didn't hev a square meal comin' to her, she camped on Ol' Swallertail
an' made him board her. Las' time she come she left her young-un--
that's Ingua, ye know--an' the kid's been here ever since; sort of a
thorn in the side of ol' Hezekiah, we folks think, though he don't
never complain. She ain't more'n twelve or thirteen year old, thet
Ingua, but she keeps house fer her gran'dad--what they is to keep,
which ain't much. I won't let the kid 'round my store, nohow, 'cause
she swipes ev'rything, from dried apples to peanuts, thet she kin lay
her hands on."

"Perhaps she is hungry," said Mary Louise, defending her new friend.

"Like enough. But I ain't feedin' starvin' kids, 'Tain't my business.
If Ol' Swallertail don't feed her enough, thet's _his_ lookout. I've
warned him if she sets foot in this store I'll charge him ten cents,
jes' fer safety, so he keeps her out. He's slick, Ol' Swallertail is,
an' silent-like an' secret in all he does an' says; but he's got to git
up earlier in the mornin' to git the best o' Sol Jerrems, he er his
kid, either one."

As Mr. Cragg had now vanished from sight up the street, Mary Louise
ventured out and after a brisk walk deposited her basket on the stoop
of the Cragg cottage, where Ingua still sat, swinging her feet
pensively, as if she had not stirred since Mary Louise had left her.

CHAPTER V
MARY LOUISE BECOMES A PEACEMAKER

"Here are the dishes, exactl