"I know you can't make an angel
without a man to start with, and I'll do what I can to furnish the man,
seein' I'm responsible for you bein' born in the shape of one, and the
preachers may put in the wing and the tail feathers if they can! Now
start that saw!"

* * * * *

Old Farnham and his son sat in the small front room of the widow
Sunderland's cabin. The old man's jaw was set, and he grasped his knees
with his big hairy hands as if to steady himself.

Neither of the men arose when Lib came into the room with the baby. The
old man's eyes followed her as she seated herself without so much as a
glance at his companion.

"My name's Farnham," he began hoarsely. "This is my son Thad. You've met
him, maybe?" He stopped and cleared his throat.

Lib did not turn her head.

"Yes, I've met him," she said quietly.

The old man's face turned the color of dull terra-cotta.

"They say he took advantage of you. I don't know. I wasn't much as a
young feller, but I wasn't a scrub, and I don't savvy scrubs. I fetched
him over here to-day to ask you if it's true, and to say to you if it
is, he'll marry you or there'll be trouble. That don't square it, but
it's the best I can do."

There was a tense stillness in the little room. The baby gave a squeal
of delight and kicked a small red stocking from its dimpled foot. The
old man picked it up and laid it on Lib's lap. She looked straight into
his face for a while before she spoke.

"I guess you're a good man, Mr. Farnham," she said slowly. "I wouldn't
mind being your daughter-in-law, if you had a son that took after you. I
think the baby would like you very well for a grandpap, too. The older
he grows, the more particular I'm getting about his relations. I didn't
think much about anything before he came, but I've done a lot of
thinkin' since. I guess that's generally the way with girls."

She turned toward Thad, and her voice cut the air like a lash.

"Suppose you _was_ the father of this baby, and had to be drug here by
the scruff of the neck to own it, wouldn't you think I'd done the poor
little thing harm enough just by--by _that_, without tackin' you onto
him for the rest of his life? No, sir!" She stood up and took a step
backward. "You go and tell everybody--tell Ruby Adair, that I say this
child hasn't any father; he never had any, but he's got a _mother_, and
a mother that thinks too much of him to disgrace him by marrying a
coward, w