thing
with little pieces of wood. Tom went to the station with me, but I
wouldn't let him go no farther, cause I did not want to be seen too much
with him. I told him I wouldn't come and see Billy, cause I might be
followed. I tell you, I went home feeling better than when I went up
there, cause Jim can do his worse now, he can't get Billy.

I got your letter, Kate. It was an awful nice letter. You seem all
different, and it makes me happy way inside.

Yours,
_Nan_.

XXXIII

_Dear Kate_:

I don't know how I'm going to tell you, so you won't feel too bad. Jim
is dead. He sent two or three times to me asking me for money, and I
wouldn't send it to him, cause I didn't have it, and when the last
fellow threatened to take the kid, I told him to go to the devil, that
the kid was where they couldn't touch it. Well, that night I just got
home from work and had taken my waist off and was starting to brush my
hair when I saw my door open sneaking like, and Jim crept in. I was
paralyzed for a minit and couldn't move, just stood there with the brush
on my hair. He had been drinking and looked awful. I said low like,
"Jim, for God's sake, Jim, why do you come here?" He said, "Where else
am I to go?" I said, "Jim, go--go--don't stay a minit." He didn't move,
just stood and looked at me. "But, Jim," I said, "the police, they're
watching the place." He come up to me and put his face close against
mine and I backed away, and said, "Jim, get out. You've been drinkin'."
Then he sort of got sore and he said, "What do you mean by sendin' me
the messages you have?" I said, "I mean just what I said, I ain't got no
more money to give you," and he sneered at me. "Oh, you ain't got no
money, and you ain't hauling down thirty a week, are you?" "Well," I
said, "suppose I am, it's mine, ain't it?" And then he said I ought to
divy up when a feller's in trouble, and at that I got mad. "Divy up?" I
said. "_Divy up._ What have I been doin' the last month but divy up.
I've give you all I got. Why don't you get out of the country, you'll be
pinched the first thing you know." And then he said fierce like and with
an awful look on his face, "You take it from me, Nan, they'll never
pinch Jim Sheridan. If the bulls git me it'll be because I can't handle
a gun." I didn't know what to do with him and I said again, "Get out,
Jim, I'm scared to death you've been seen." He said, "Gimme some money.
I got to have money." I asked him, "What've you