knowed him."

"Really," said Mary Louise, "it is perplexing."

Ingua nodded. She was feeling quite happy after her lunch and already
counted Mary Louise a warm friend. She had never had a friend before,
yet here was a girl of nearly her own age who was interested in her and
her history and sweetly sympathetic concerning her woes and worries. To
such a friend Ingua might confide anything, almost; and, while she was
not fully aware of that fact just now, she said impulsively:

"Without tellin' what'd cost me my life, or lettin' anybody know what's
become of Ned Joselyn, I'll say they was money--lots o' money!--passed
atween him an' ol' Swallertail. Sometimes the heap went to one, an'
sometimes to the other; I seen it with my own eyes, when Gran'dad
didn't know I was spyin'. But it didn't stick to either one, for Ned
was--" She stopped short, then continued more slowly: "When Ned
dis'peared, he'd spent all his own an' his wife's money, an' Ol'
Swallertail ain't got enough t' live decent."

"Are you sure of that, Ingua?"

"N-o, I ain't sure o' noth'n. But he don't spend no money, does he?"

"For stamps," Mary Louise reminded her.

Then the child grew silent and thoughtful again. Mary Louise, watching
the changing expressions on her face, was convinced she knew more of
the mystery than she dared confide to her new friend. There was no use
trying to force her confidence, however; in her childish way she was
both shrewd and stubborn and any such attempt would be doomed to
failure. But after quite a period of silence Mary Louise asked gently:

"Did you like Mr. Joselyn, Ingua?"

"Sometimes. Only when--" Another self-interruption. She seemed often on
the point of saying something her better judgment warned her not to.
"Sometimes Ned were mighty good to me. Sometimes he brought me candy,
when things was goin' good with him. Once, Mary Louise, he kissed me,
an' never wiped off his mouth afterwards! Y-e-s, I liked Ned, 'ceptin'
when--" Another break. "I thought Ned was a pretty decent gink."

"Where did you learn all your slang, dear?"

"What's slang?"

"Calling a man a 'gink,' and words like that."
"Oh. Marm was full o' them words," she replied with an air of pride.
"They seem to suit things better than common words; don't you think so,
Mary Louise?"

"Sometimes," with an indulgent smile. "But ladies do not use them,
Ingua, because they soil the purity of our language."

"Well," said the girl, "it'll be a long tim