ent. And her heavy breathing was fast making a moist patch
amidst the gravel stains on his shirt front.

"She jest loves a feller--"

Toby's arm slipped from her waist, and a hunted look crept into his
foolish eyes.

"An' she don't care nothin'--"

The man was suddenly seized with a racking fit of coughing, which
somehow jolted the girl into an upright position.

"Course she don't," he agreed, when his paroxysm had passed. "Say, you
don't think I got newmony?" he inquired, feeling the need for an
abrupt change of subject. "I was allus weak-chested as a kid. An'
talkin' o' kids," he hurried on, in his terror recalling the object
of his visit, "guess you ken put me wise."

"Kids? I wasn't talkin' of kids," protested the girl a little
angrily.

She was hurt. Cruelly hurt. All her best efforts had gone for nothing.
A moment before Toby had seemed so nearly hers, and now--

"No. I didn't guess you were. But--that is--you see--"

The man floundered heavily and broke off. His look was one of comical
confusion and trouble. So much so that it was too much for the girl's
good nature.

"Whose kids?" she demanded, the familiar smile creeping back into her
eyes, and her lips pursing dryly. "Yours?"

"Oh, no," denied the man quickly. "Not mine. It's Zip's. Y'see, since
his wife's lit out he's kind o' left with 'em. An' he's that
fool-headed he don't know how to raise 'em proper. So I guessed I'd
help him. Now, if you put me wise--"

"You help raise Zip's kids? Gee!" The girl slid off the table and
stood eyeing him, her woman's humor tickled to the limit.

But Toby did not realize it. He was in deadly earnest now.

"Yes," he said simply. Then, with a gleam of intelligence, "How'd you
raise 'em?"

The girl was suddenly stirred to a feeling of good-humored malice.

"How'd I raise 'em? Why, it ain't jest easy."

"It sure ain't," agreed Toby heartily. "Now, how'd you feed 'em?"

Birdie became judicially wise.

"Well," she began, "you can't jest feed 'em same as ord'nary folks.
They need speshul food. You'll need to give 'em boiled milk plain or
with pap, you kin git fancy crackers an' soak 'em. Then ther's
beef-tea. Not jest ord'nary beef-tea. You want to take a boilin' o'
bones, an' boil for three hours, an' then skim well. After that you
might let it cool some, an' then you add flavorin'. Not too much, an'
not too little, jest so's to make it elegant tastin'. Then you cook
toasties to go with it, or give 'em cra